


With Eyes Wide Open

by amchara



Category: Supernatural, Wayward Sisters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Gen, Next Generation Winchester(s), casefile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 01:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amchara/pseuds/amchara
Summary: Kat Robertson's life has been free of spirits since the incident at Roosevelt Asylum. But moving into an old house at the end of her college senior year returns her face to face with the supernatural world. It's not Winchesters she encounters this time around though, but other hunters. A new generation of hunters.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lessons Learned](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/356439) by lyra_wing. 



> Author’s Notes/warnings: Written over 10 years ago now(?!) I finally decided that I should archive it -- and I hope it's seen as an interesting counterpart to Wayward Sisters, which, even though I haven't seen the episode yet, I'm so thrilled finally exists. This story is another, alternate view of Supernatural: Next Gen and kick-ass women. 
> 
> 25,000 words. Takes place within lyra_wing's Lessons Learned 'verse, although readers unfamiliar with it should be able to follow this story nonetheless without too much difficulty.
> 
> Gen-only readers should note that while this story is gen (with implied Michael/Lucas in two sections), other stories in this 'verse involve Wincest. Many thanks to krisomniac for the beta-job.

_What happens to the people who survive the horror movies? You know, the sassy brunette, the girl with the glasses and the guy whose blond girlfriend died within the first five minutes of the film. After the sun comes up and the ghosts dissipate and they’re huddled together, surrounded by the blood of their friends and the splintered remains of furniture- what do they do next?_  
  
After that shot the credits role and the theater-goers stretch and stand up, chatting with friends about how stupid they were and how they (the theater-goers) would never in a million years been dumb enough to actually think of going **into** the house.   
  
Perhaps they’re right. But it’s kind of easy for them to say, sitting in the comfortable bucket seats, eating popcorn and hiding behind their hands when the suspense gets to be too much.  
  
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say. Once you’ve made that decision to enter the house- if you survive, what do you do next? Because really, once you find out that the monsters in the closet are real, it’s kind of hard to slam that door closed again.   
  


***

  
  
_Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in morning, sailor takes warning,_ she repeated to herself softly as she watched the rising sun color the fields and farmhouses in a pinkish light. She wondered if the sky had been red yesterday morning.   
  
“What did you say, Kat?” Gavin asked, his eyes shifting off the road for a moment.   
  
“Nothing,” she muttered. “Nothing important.”  
  
The car returned to the heavy silence of the past few minutes.   
  
“Take the shortcut to my dad’s house. My mom’s probably shitting her pants right now since I didn’t come home and I don’t want to deal with that now.”  
  
“Hey, it’ll be okay- ” Gavin tried to lay a reassuring hand on her thigh but she shrugged him off angrily. “Gavin, I told you! We’re done. Finished.”  
  
“Aw, don’t be like that. I know you’re upset but we’ve done some pretty crazy stuff before,” Gavin shrugged as he moved his hand back to the wheel. “We survived and it’s not as if we got hurt or anything.”  
  
“Yeah, thanks to those two guys. If it had been just us in there…” Kat trailed off. She tapped her fingers against the glass of her window, unsure of how to continue. Near death experiences were nothing to shrug off, no matter how calmly he was taking it.   
  
“Yeah well…” Gavin started but then he too lapsed into silence. He pulled into her driveway, and Kat left without another word.  
  


***

  
_The best advice would be to try and forget; after all it was only one night in your life in the thousands you’ve lived. Try to think of it as a bad dream, a nightmare that was maybe a little too real._   
  


***

  
  
“House of Wax? 13 Ghosts? Amityville Horror?” Meghan read off the titles of DVDs.   
  
Kat shrugged. “Whatever,” she said uneasily.   
  
“Amityville Horror!” Lindsay called out as she balanced a bowl of chips and three sodas. She plopped down next to Kat on the sofa. “You’ll love it, it’s so scary,” she told her.  
  
Kat forced herself to smile. “Great!”  
  
 _You can do this, you can do this..._ she told herself, as she watched the young couple walk into the house...   
***  
  
“Kat?” Meghan’s concerned voice came through the bathroom door. “You okay?”   
  
Kat took a deep breath as she leaned over the sink. “Fine! I’m fine!”  
  
“You’re missing the best part of the movie- should we pause it?”   
  
“No, it’s all right-” Kat opened the door. “You know, I’m not feeling the best. I’ve had a headache all day and I think I might just go home,” she said quickly, brushing past her mystified friends.   
  
She hated lying. She hated to be a coward. But having hysterics in front of her friends because of a stupid _movie_ wasn’t an option.   
  


***

  
  
Even when she was young, she had never been afraid of the dark. She used to laugh at her little brother when he wanted the night-light on. But now she had taken to sleeping with her bedside light on. Her closest door was always closed now and she checked under her bed. At least three times a night.   
  
The nightmare was always the same: trapped in that small room in the asylum, except this time it wasn't the patient who had whispered in her ear. It was an unseen presence, a feeling of dread and something always creeping up behind her and every time she turned to confront it, all she saw was a dark shadow.   
  
Her parents started to notice. “You’ve been looking tired lately,” her mom commented one morning. “Been sleeping all right?”  
  
“Yeah,” she mumbled as she brushed on concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes.  
  
“Does this have anything to do with Gavin? Breaking up after dating for so long can be stressful and-”  
  
“No, Mom. It’s not Gavin.”  
  
Except for the part where he had been the one who got them into the whole mess in the first place.  
  
Speaking of Gavin, it appeared that he was coping just fine in the aftermath, the bastard. It’s not as if she expected him to be curled up in a corner rocking back and forth but some sort of effect on him would have been nice to see.   
  
Kat cornered him one day in the cafeteria to ask how he did it.   
  
“What are you talking about, Kat?” Gavin’s tone was amused and slightly scornful.   
  
“The haunted asylum? Where I saved your ass from those ghosts?” she shot back. “Don’t you ever think about that? Doesn’t it ever worry you, knowing that ghosts are real?”   
  
“What? I know that place was freaky, but you can’t seriously think that there were real ghosts. I know you were scared but c’mon, it was over a month ago. Let it go. I never knew you were such a wimp.”  
  
She stared at him in disbelief. “You… you were… I can’t believe you’re saying this! How can you not believe?”  
  
“Easy,” he crossed his arms, and raised his chin in a challenge. “Because it didn’t happen like that. There weren’t any ghosts or spirits, just a freaky old building whose doors were rusted shut.”  
  
“And that ghost girl who kissed you?”   
  
He blanched but held firm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“And the guys who helped us?” she asked in frustration.  
  
Gavin snorted. “Geeks who thought they were being cool by playing ghost-hunter. We didn’t ever see them shoot a ghost, did we? Delusional, and I guess they convinced you as well, huh?”  
  
“You’re unbelievable,” she answered, tired of his lies. Picking up her bag, she grabbed her lunch and stormed out.  
  
Maybe Gavin’s way of dealing- pretending it didn’t happen and providing rational explanation for irrational situations worked for him, but it wouldn’t work for her. She couldn’t willfully ignore and close her eyes to the truth. And it was time to find out what the truth really was.  
  


***

  
  
It wasn’t that easy to find it. Searching and researching for hours online was a double-edged sword. On one hand, she was learning loads about every kind of supernatural creature and spirit that could possibly exist. On the other hand, what was true and what was just made-up crap by gamers and fantasy fans was hard to distinguish. And most of the sites were about how to see ghosts and spirits and interact with them, which wasn’t what she was looking for. She wanted to know how to defend herself from them, not seek them out.  
  
Some nights Kat would shut her computer off and throw herself on her bed, frustrated with the search. Other nights she would read on into the early hours of the morning, taking notes and printing off pages that looked like they might help.   
  
She invested in an EMF reader and a necklace with both a cross and a pentagram amulets (better to be on the safe side). Salt was sprinkled on her windowsills and she cleansed her room with sage monthly. She posted on ghost-hunters’ forums and paranormal sites although she eventually grew to realize that most of them of the people frequenting them hadn’t ever come across any real spirits. She tried google-ing Sam and Dean’s names once but the only hits she got were some florists in Alabama and a folk musician named Sam Dean.   
  
"Overreaction, thy name is Katherine Robertson," her brother's dry words rang in her ears when he saw her collection of paraphernalia.   
  
Kat ignored him.  
  
"What's got you on this kick?" he asked, lounging against her dresser as he picked up one of the protective crystals that she had recently ordered from E-bay.  
  
"Nothing," she snapped, snatching the crystal back.   
  
Neither he nor their parents knew exactly what had happened the night other than the fact that she and Gavin had spent the night somewhere without permission. But Tim had a pretty good idea... He continued. "I hear that you and your boyfriend spent the night at the old Roosevelt Asylum. Scared that the inmates are going to come and get you?"   
  
"No," Kat protested weakly.   
  
He grinned. "C'mon, you don't actually believe that?"   
  
She was tired of hearing that line. Let her parents or friends try spending a night there and let them see how skeptical they were in the morning.  
  
She threw a pillow at him. "Get out!"  
  
He held his arms up in a picture of injured innocence. "I'm going, I'm going!"  
  
The rest of junior year passed and was spent trying to convince friends that no, she was not turning into a goth or anything and no, even speaking to Gavin again was out of the question. The nightmare faded from memory, replaced by the normal bad dreams of failing a test or being naked in front of the school. Then senior year arrived, passing by in flash of pep-rallies and exams, applying to college, new boyfriend and prom.   
  


***

  
  
_And nothing happened. No sign of anything other-worldly, not even the faintest hint of a specter. Nothing since that night. And you begin to realize that maybe you had gone overboard with the whole must-protect-self-from-evil. Laughing it off, as a silly teenage stage that you were silly enough to have taken seriously after a night spent in a creepy old asylum. Gavin had probably the right take on it after all (of course, didn’t mean that you would forgive his asshat ways.) Into the garbage went the books on paranormal sightings, and the protective crystals. Sills were swept clean of salt and the EMF went into the drawer of old tapes and cds. After all, going away for school meant that all the junk had to go, according to mom._  
  
But the necklace stayed on. Just… in case.   
  
Probably a good idea, after all- most horror movies have sequels nowadays. And if you didn’t learn from the first one, your chances of survival weren’t too good for the second...   
  


***


	2. Part Two

**FOUR YEARS LATER**   
  
Ten pages. Ten pages of hand-written notes- and it still wasn’t enough. She still wasn’t certain that any of this would help her kill this thing. And she had to kill it. There wasn’t any other option- not this time.   
  
She rubbed her eyes, squinting to read the elaborate handwriting on the photocopied page. The doctors had told her not to strain her eyes so soon after the concussion but this was an emergency. Kat heard the rustle of paper and a newspaper slid into her line of sight.   
  
_‘Local Girls’ Mysterious Incident Not Satanic, Police Say’_  
  
She looked at the headline and then skimmed the rest of the article. “At least there’s one journalist in town who isn’t jumping on the ‘Satanic ritual’ bandwagon.” She picked up her pen again and started writing. She didn’t look up.   
  
“Katherine-”   
  
Kat sighed. “Professor Townsend- I appreciate the help you’ve given me this week, but I don’t have anything else to say to the police.”   
  
“Anything you recall might help- might help them catch Larisa’s attacker.”   
  
Kat bit back a choked laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “I doubt it. I’ve already tried to talk to them. They don’t believe me.” She looked up for a moment.   
  
Professor Townsend’s round, friendly face was drawn tight with concern. She tried again. “Well- maybe you could talk to someone else?”   
  
“Like Melissa? Give her some more facts to distort?”   
  
“Some faculty members and I have been discussing that and we’ve had a chat with her-”   
  
“Professor- ” Kat interrupted as she gathered all her notes and shoved them in her bag. After a moment’s deliberation she also grabbed the newspaper. “We both know the kind of reputation one can enjoy after an ‘exposé’ in _The Standard_. What’s first printed is what people remember.” She gazed around at the collection of students in the library. A girl sitting at a computer in the corner quickly looked away and Kat allowed a bitter half-smile to cross her face.  
  
Tossing her laptop bag across her shoulder she continued. “I’m going to be known as the Satanist Girl for the rest of my time here. I’m sure at least half the school thinks I’m the reason Larisa was hurt anyway. At least, that’s the general sense I’m getting from being back this week,” she finished sarcastically.   
  
Her professor reached out to touch her shoulder but she was already moving through the library and out the door.   
  
Kat strode blindly across the campus grounds, blinking back tears as she got on the first bus she saw. As she watched the green grounds and brick buildings disappear from view she felt the same sense of calm and purpose that had been building all week come back. She settled back in her seat and took out her most recent acquisition from the library- an old, dusty grimoire that had been lying misplaced in the folklore section before she had rescued it.   
  
It was hard to believe that all this had started only a month ago.  
  


***

  
  
“Ka- Kat?” Larisa’s voice was shaky as she called out. “Can you come here?”   
  
Kat didn’t look up from where she was editing her student union story at the kitchen table. She frowned. “Is it another dead mouse?” she asked, crossing out another sentence and writing the line she wanted above in neat red ink. “ ‘cause I’ve already had to deal with one of those today and I think it’s your turn to do the rodent burial.”   
  
“No, it’s not a mou- Oh God, it’s moving… Kat!” her roommate’s voice turned panicky as she scurried from her bedroom to clutch at Kat’s arm.   
  
“Larisa, what the hell are you talking about?” Kat asked, tired of the whining. She loved Larisa like a sister, but her best friend wasn’t exactly the strong heroine type and was prone to overreacting to even small events like finding a spider in her room. And since they had moved into the apartment, Larisa had been weirdly twitchy.   
  
Kat didn’t know why. They were lucky that they had been able to find an apartment so soon after their dorm had been condemned because of mold problems. And it was pretty nice, in her opinion. It was in a renovated old house where the top floor was a separate apartment. If the lights flickered occasionally and the rats (in the attic?) gave her the creeps sometimes, that was perfectly normal, or so she kept telling herself.  
  
“Just, come-” Larisa said, pulling Kat up off her chair. “I’ve never seen anything like this before and it’s- just- freaky.”   
  
Kat reluctantly followed Larisa into her bedroom. At first she didn’t see anything. “Where-” she began to ask but stopped as she spotted what was in the corner. A small ball of fire the size of fist hovered about two feet above Larisa’s bed, moving erratically back and forth.   
  
Her breath caught in her throat, and she immediately began to back away from the bed. _Not again, not again…_   
  
She closed her eyes tight, fervently hoping that the scene in front of her was a nightmare. She hadn’t had one like this in a while, but after the stress of mid-terms and having to find a new apartment two months before graduation, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out that they were reoccurring.   
  
_Please don’t let it be real…_ She wished as she opened her eyes, hoping the ball would be gone.   
  
“Kat?” Larisa’s voice wavered uncertainly. The ball appeared to be growing larger in front of them.   
  
_Damn it._  
  
Kat swallowed and said quietly, “Lar, it’s going to be okay.” Thoughts raced through her mind- _Can’t panic now, have to find a way out._   
  
The ball of fire suddenly zoomed closer towards them. Reaching out for Larisa’s hand, Kat reassured her, “We’re fine, all right? Now, let’s just back away and go out the door-” The door swung shut with a loud bang. Larisa yelped with fright and Kat suppressed a shudder.   
  
The ball of fire hovered and twisted in the air, leaving traces behind, so it spelled out the letters G… E…T… O…U…T…   
  
The girls needed no other incentive. Kat grabbed the door handle and opened it, pulling Larisa out with her, and they ran out of their apartment and downstairs to their land-lady’s dwelling.   
  


***

  
  
“Girls, girls, girls,” Mrs. Sandbury tsk-ed as she passed them each a cup of tea. “I know that the apartment isn’t exactly new, but there’s no reason to suspect a _ghost_.”   
  
She picked up a cookie tin and passed it over to Larisa, who accepted it mutely.   
  
Smiling indulgently, she continued. “Now, I know that you both are probably out partying a lot, I remember my college years. I had a few nights where the recollection was hazy and I know that sometimes… experimentation can play a big role in your social life.”   
  
Larisa put the tin down. “We’ll show you,” she answered firmly. “It’s there, I saw it this afternoon and even when we moved in last week, I… I felt that something was there.”   
  
“I’ve lived in this house for twenty-three years,” Mrs. Sandbury said. “And I’ve never had a problem with anything kind of _spirit_.” She looked appalled at the very thought.   
  
“Have any of your other tenants had any problems?” asked Kat.   
  
“No.” The tone brooked no argument.   
  
“Are you sure?” Kat pressed.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury pursed her lips. “There was one young man…” She lowered her voice. “But he was doing-” she paused, demonstrating with her hand. Kat resisted a mad giggle at the sight of her fifty-year old landlady pretending to smoke pot.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury continued. “He told me he kept hearing voices but of course when you’re--, you know-- you never know what is real. No one else has had any problems, as far as I’m aware of.” She smiled. “You girls are probably just stressed and tired. Drink your tea and relax. You’ll go back upstairs and realize that it was just your imaginations.” She picked up the cookie tin and offered it to Kat. “Another cookie?”   
  


***

  
  
“You never told me that you felt something in the apartment,” Kat said to Larisa in a low voice as they slowly walked back up to their apartment.   
  
Larisa shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me that I was being dramatic and that you wouldn’t believe me.”   
  
“Lar-” Kat felt a rush of guilt, remembering how it felt when no one had believed her about the asylum. “You can tell me about stuff like that, honestly. I want to hear about it, if you feel anything, see anything.”   
  
Her friend stopped. “Really?” she asked, surprised. “So you in believe in ghosts then?”   
Kat nodded.   
  
“You- practical, down-to-earth Kat Robertson?”   
  
“Yeah, I do,” Kat answered shortly, looking down to where the necklace with pentagram and cross hung around her neck. Would it help against the thing in their apartment? She smiled over at her friend, who still looked doubtful. “It’s kind of a long story. Besides, after what we just saw today, how can I not believe?”   
  
Larisa smiled nervously back at her. “Yeah, you’d have to be especially dumb not to realize what’s in our apartment.” She started walking slower, the door to their apartment coming into view.   
  
“What are we going to do now?” Larisa asked, as she took her key out and fingered it. She didn’t put it anywhere near the door. “Mrs. Sandbury doesn’t believe us and I doubt she’ll come up to actually check. Besides I can’t afford another move now, so close to the end of the year.”   
  
Kat took a deep breath. “First, we aren’t going to panic,” she said. “Second, we’re going back in.”   
  
“We are?” Larisa squeaked.   
  
“We are,” Kat said firmly. “I have a story due tomorrow- I’ve never missed a deadline in four years and I’m not going to start tonight.” She patted Larisa on the arm. “And we’re not going back in right away, we have to pick up some supplies first. But we are coming back.”   
  
“Kat- I can’t live in an apartment with a ghost!” Larisa said frantically. “I can’t!”   
  
“We won’t have to,” Kat said as she opened the door quietly, her heart pounding in her chest, despite her brave words. She tiptoed into the living room and picked up her purse and laptop. Larisa dashed in beside her and raced to the bedroom to grab some clothes and toiletries for the two of them. The air in the apartment felt strangely heavy and the back of her neck prickled with the sensation that something was watching her. Behind her, she heard something rattle and she raced back to the door, where Larisa was peeking in. As she closed the door, she heard the loud crash of a lamp.   
  
“We’re going to find a way to get rid of this son-of-a-bitch. Completely.” Kat felt calm as she took out her car keys. Deep down she always knew that she was right about the supernatural world. It had only been a matter of time before it caught up with her again.   
  
“You know a way to get rid of ghosts?”   
  
“I think it’s a poltergeist, actually,” Kat said absently, as she thought about the steps they had to take next.   
  
Larisa looked at her.   
  
“What?”   
  
“How do you know all this?”   
  
“It’s a long story,” Kat repeated, tossing her keys up and catching them. “Anyway, we’re probably going to need to call someone.”   
  
“Who? The Ghost-busters?”   
  


***

  
  
Unfortunately, the ghost-busters weren’t in the yellow pages, but Kat was able to find the Illinois Paranormal Association.   
  
“For sure!” bubbled the woman on the other end of the line, when Kat called her from the payphone outside the supermarket. “We haven’t heard of any poltergeists in months- and I’m sure I can find some members to come over and take a look.”   
  
“How soon can you be here?” Kat asked, tapping the top of the phone booth impatiently. It was already three in the afternoon. While Larisa had called friends of theirs to see about staying with them for the night, Kat had weeded through psychic hotlines and amateur paranormal investigators before settling on the IPA, as they had the most professional looking ad, plus the fact that they mentioned, ‘free consultations on haunted houses and dwellings’.   
  
They showed up an hour later, wearing matching blue uniforms and wielding EMF readers that Kat was pretty sure she had seen online for $400.   
  
“You the girl with the ghost?” asked the man in charge, cracking his gum as he whipped out a form and started filling it in with a red pen. A small, white patch above his breast pocket read, ‘Bill Giddings.’   
  
“Poltergeist,” she corrected, relieved to see some professionals. She wondered if Sam and Dean had worked for a company like this.   
  
“Right,” Bill answered shortly. “How about some details?” He pulled out another two sheets of paper, filled with lines of questions.   
  
“Um… sure,” Kat said, slightly perturbed at his dismissive response. After a half an hour interrogation, Bill and his younger partner returned to their truck and grabbed equipment that Kat recognized from her research back in high school.   
  
“Is that an EMF meter?” she asked as she watched the men get prepared to go in.   
  
“Trifield Natural EMF meter,” said the other man, giving her a wink. “Best of the best. You interested in the paranormal?”   
  
“Not really,” Kat answered. “But it seems to be interested in me.”   
  
“Oh, yeah?” he asked curiously, “You ever been tested for psychic abilities?”   
  
“Uh, no,” she said, caught off guard by the question. “I think it’s more unlucky circumstances.”   
  
“Carver!” the other man called. “Let’s get a move on!”   
  
Carver waved an affirmation and picked up his heavy bag of equipment. He shrugged, “Sorry about my partner. We’ll camp out in your living room for the night and tell you what we find.” He smiled and then added, “Anything we should watch out for?”   
  
“Our landlady,” Larisa called from where she was sitting on the grass. She smiled flirtatiously. “She’s dangerous.”   
  


***

  
  
The girls returned early the next morning, and were surprised to see the two men asleep in their van.   
  
Kat tapped on the window, startling them both awake. Carver rolled down the window, yawning but giving her a big grin as she waited expectantly.   
  
“You’re right,” he said, giddy as a child at Christmas. “There’s one crazy poltergeist in there. Our EMF readers went off the charts last night!”   
  
“And we saw orbs!” Bill said excitedly. “And then we saw a chair move, by itself!”   
  
“So?” Kat asked. “Can you get rid of it?”   
  
They both gaped at her, clearly confused.   
  
“Get rid of it?” Bill asked. “Why do we want to that? This is such a strong entity, it could provide years of study. Think of the research we could undertake!”   
  
“But we live there,” Larisa butted in. “And we’re not about to share our apartment with some ghost.”   
  
“Poltergeist,” corrected Kat, Carver and Bill at the same time.   
  
The ghost hunters, unfortunately, had no interest or knowledge in any real sense, of how to get rid of the spirit.   
  
“Give us a call though, if you’re willing to let us study it,” Carver said, as he packed the last of their equipment in the van.   
  
“Not likely,” Kat said.   
  
Carver looked at her. “You probably want to be careful,” he said seriously. “I know Bill’s excited that we actually found an active spirit, but he was singing a different song last night when we were in your apartment. We didn’t mention this, because we didn’t want to scare you- but,” he lowered his voice. “We only stayed until one o’clock. Right before twelve, things started to go missing and I felt- and I’m sure he felt it too.”   
  
“What?”   
  
He looked at her, trying to decide on the right words. “Evil,” he said finally. “Not demon sort of evil, and Lord knows I don’t ever want to run into one of those- but definitively a malevolent spirit. You and your friend should be careful if you go back into that house.”   
  
Kat shivered, “Do you know of anyone who could get rid of it for us?” she asked hopefully. Maybe the ghost-hunters had some connection to the Sam-and-Dean sort of hunters.   
  
He pursed his lips, “A psychic perhaps,” he said, climbing in beside his partner. “They might be able to help you. Some of them do spiritual cleansing,” He rummaged around an ash-tray that was overflowing with business cards, pulling four cards out after a few moments. “Try these numbers,” he advised, handing them to her. “They may be able to help.”   
  


***

  
  
Two psychics told Kat they didn’t deal in poltergeists, one told her that it would cost her 7,000 dollars and the flight down and back from New Mexico. The last psychic seemed promising until he told her was leaving for a two week conference the next day.   
  
“I can check it out in about a month,” Anson Bunt, renowned paranormal psychic told her on the phone.   
  
“A month?” Kat tried to keep the frustration out of her voice.   
  
“I’m pretty much booked up solid for the next six weeks,” he told her. “But your case sounds interesting- so I might be able to squeeze it in before the start of my book tour.”   
  
“Thanks anyway,” Kat said. She started to hang up.   
  
“I might be able to put in a call to a friend of mine who deals in your… kind of situations though. If you give me your number, I’ll pass it on to him.”   
  
“Sure,” Kat recited her cell-phone number without much hope. She doubted that she would ever hear back from him. She had chased enough stories for her journalism courses that she knew a dismissal when she heard one.   
  
A week passed. Kat and Larisa found a place to stay with two of their friends. They were as skeptical as Mrs. Sandbury about the possibility of a poltergeist, although one, Melissa, was interested in pursuing a story about the beliefs of students in the paranormal.   
  
“You’d be a perfect candidate,” she told Kat over dinner one night. “It’d only take a few minutes- just a couple questions.”   
  
“No thanks,” Kat answered, experienced enough from Melissa’s other ‘exposés’ to know that the profile would likely as not paint an unflattering portrait of her. She didn’t want to become known as the freak girl who went around telling people, ‘the truth is out there’.   
  
“Are you sure?” Melissa asked, her gaze dropping to Kat’s silver pendant with the pentagram and cross.   
  
“Positive,” Kat answered, noticing where Melissa’s eyes had wandered. She tucked the necklace back underneath her collar.   
  


***

  
  
Finally Larisa had had enough. “This is stupid,” she said, as they sat on the deflating mattress in their friends’ laundry room. “There has to be a way we can get rid of it ourselves.”   
  
Kat looked at her warily, “You want us to try and get rid of it?”   
  
“Well, why not?” Larisa shrugged. “You already seemed to know something about this stuff when you were talking with the hot ghost-hunter guy.”   
  
“I don’t know-” but Kat had had some similar thoughts. How hard could it be? She had a few saved copies of exorcisms and instructions on cleansing rituals on her laptop. It couldn’t hurt to try… and if it worked then she could go back to thinking that ghosts and spirits weren’t real. Maybe. She pushed the remembered conversation with Carver out of her mind.   
  
“Please, Kat?” Larisa gave her the best puppy eyes she could muster.   
  
“You want to go and face a poltergeist?”   
  
“Yes! My GPA is suffering and I’m not spending the rest of my last year at ISU living out of a laundry room.”   
  
Kat sighed, making up her mind. “Fine, let’s head to the supermarket.”   
  
“C’mon, I know that you- what? Oh. We can find ghost, sorry- poltergeist repellent at a supermarket?”   
  
“If you know where to look.”   
  


***

  
  
“We need to make a stop at Hal’s place,” Kat mentioned to Larisa as she navigated down the main street of town in their old Toyota. In the back seat were grocery bags from the supermarket, health food store and local pagan shop; they had loaded up on sage, eucalyptus, raspberry leaves, hyssop and other cleansing herbs as well as white candles.   
  
Larisa raised her eyebrows as Kat turned off on the next side street and pulled into the driveway of a small yellow duplex.   
  
“I thought you were done with him.”   
  
“I am,” Kat said as she eyed the industrial size box of rock salt by Larisa’s feet. “I just need to pick up some equipment.” She swung the door open and headed towards the house.   
  
“Hey baby,” Hal drawled as he opened the door. He scratched his black mohawk as he gave her the once over. The smell of pot drifted out. “Haven’t see you for a while… you been missing me?”   
  
“Nope,” Kat said briskly as she peered into the house. “Is George home?”   
  
“Yeah, I think so,” he answered, looking confused. “Why-”   
  
“Thanks,” Kat interrupted, pushing past him, and into the smoky interior. She slipped through the hallway and into the kitchen. Now was not the time to be conversing with ex-boyfriends, not when there was a poltergeist in her apartment.   
  
George wasn’t in the kitchen, nor in the small living room. But Kat spotted what she had come for, leaning against the back door. “Huh,” Hal said, coming behind her. “He was here just a second ago-”   
  
“Borrowing this.” Kat said, grabbing the item and getting ready to leave. “I’d stay to chat, but we have a slight problem that we have to deal with!” She ran back out to the car.   
  


***

  
  
“A shotgun?” Larisa stared at the gun sitting in Kat’s lap. She came from a very liberal family in Vermont and she didn’t have the same… appreciation Kat did for them. Especially Remington pump shotguns.   
  
“Yep,” Kat said, patting the barrel as she placed it carefully in the backseat. “I don’t exactly know if it’ll help, but it’s always good to have a gun, anyway.”   
  
“Uh, okay,” Larisa said, as she glanced at barrel poking out of the grocery bags. She waited for a moment before adding quickly. “Is it really going to be that dangerous?”   
  
“I don’t know.”   
  
Silence dominated in the car as Kat turned down their street. She watched her friend out of the corner of her eye. “I can do this alone-”   
  
“Don’t be stupid,” Larisa said, not turning her head. “I’m the one who wants to try this. Plus- as if I’m going to let you walk in there alone to face that thing.”   
  


***

  
  
They returned to the apartment around six, Larisa cautiously opening the door, while Kat slipped in, shotgun loaded with rock-salt rounds. Other than a small lamp that lay smashed on the floor, the apartment was exactly as they had left it.   
  
“Is it still here?” Larisa asked quietly, as she closed the door and tiptoed to where Kat was standing. She dropped the grocery bags of supplies on the kitchen table.   
  
“I think so,” Kat said, glancing around. “It’s invisible, so unless it shows itself…”   
  
A sudden crack sounded like a pistol in the air and made them both wheel around.   
Of course, there was nothing behind them, just the tiny area that made up their living room. Kat raised her shotgun and eyed the floral-print sofa, then the coffee table. Their old tv suddenly flickered on, the box displaying black and white static and buzzing loudly.   
  
Beside her, Kat could hear Larisa’s gasp.   
  
“Shhhss, it’s okay,” she said, not sure who she was trying to comfort, Larisa or herself. It was hard to ignore the instincts that screamed _run, run, run._   
  
“That’s easy for you to say!” Larisa hissed. “You have a gun. Me? I’m cannon fodder, a horror scene extra…” she rambled on while she grabbed a package of white candles and ripped it open. She brought her lighter out, lighting a candle and holding it out in front of her like a knife.   
  
Turning back around to face Kat, her eyes opened in horror. “Kat!”   
  
Kat swung around just in time to see a paperweight smash into the antique mirror hanging on the opposite wall from her. She ducked instinctively and the shards flew over her head, a few seeming to twist in the air towards her. She dived towards the sofa as they plunged down, some grazing her skin but most plunging into the soft fabric. The shotgun clattered to the ground beside her.   
  
She heard a shriek as she raised her head to check on Larisa. To Kat’s dismay, Larisa was still standing, arm raised in an effort to stave off the tiny slivers of glass. She still held the candle in one hand. Pinpricks of red spotted her face and one eye was running with tears and blood.   
  
“Lar, get down!” Kat yelled at her, crawling forward, she pulled at her friend’s knees trying to get her out of the way of the flying glass.   
  
“I can’t!” Larisa sobbed, batting her free arm around ineffectually against the shards. “It’s got my hair.”   
  
Kat looked up and saw that Larisa’s long braid was standing up straight in the air attached to the ceiling fan above them. The fan started to turn lazily and Kat lunged, grabbing the braid and yanking down hard. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed an aerosol can of hairspray drifting through the air. It seemed so incongruous compared the rest of the assault that it took her a moment to realize the danger.   
  
“Your candle! Drop your-” A blunt object struck the back of her head, pitching her forward.   
  
As the room spun around her, Kat dropped to her knees. A wave of heat blossomed over her head and foggily she could hear Larisa screaming. Her friend’s body dropped to ground beside her, flames licking in her hair and clothes as she rolled around frantically.   
  
Kat tried to lurch to her feet to help her but as she did, a frying pan flew towards her and she dropped to the floor again. She grabbed the abandoned shotgun, pumped a round into the barrel, and fired as the pan zoomed towards her. The shot rang out in the apartment and the pan went flying over the sofa, crashing against the wall.   
  
Kat slumped back against the sofa and closed her eyes as the dizziness returned. She forced herself to open them. They had to get out now. They were going to die if they didn’t. She looked over to her friend, lying very still on the floor. “Lar?”   
  
There was no answer and Kat suddenly found it hard to breathe. _She couldn’t be…_ Fighting to stay conscious, Kat struggled to her feet and pulled Larisa’s body towards her. The door was only five feet away, she could make it.   
  
_Four feet, three feet, two feet…_ Kat collapsed as she reached the door handle. Behind her she heard a clattering noise and a sudden burst of adrenaline raced through her as she recognized the sound of knives.   
  
She pulled the door. It didn’t budge. She sobbed in frustration and banged on it. “Someone! Please!”   
  
A timid knock answered her.   
  
“Katherine, Larisa?” came Mrs. Sandbury’s voice. “Is everything all right?”   
  
“OPEN THE DOOR!” Kat screamed.   
  
The handle clicked and the door opened a crack. Kat pulled it open and tumbled through. with Larisa’s limp body on top of her.   
  
“OH!” Mrs. Sandbury got a look at them, letting go of the handle. The door slammed shut. Two seconds later, the thud of knives hit the panel.   
  
Suffocating under Larisa’s weight, Kat shifted her gently off. Larisa moaned in response and Kat gave a small sigh of relief as she finally allowed herself to faint.   
  


***

  
  
“Montfort Hospital, last stop!” the bus driver called out and Kat snapped out of her memories. Montfort. Where Larisa was.   
  
She got off the bus in a daze and walked through the hospital door, automatically heading towards the ICU.   
  
“Larisa Dresden?” she asked one of the nurses.   
  
The nurse recognized her and smiled kindly. “She’s been moved to the Burn Unit, honey. It’s down one floor and then to the left.”   
  
“Thanks,” she answered as she moved quickly down the hall. Maybe Larisa would be awake now- maybe she could finally talk to her- finally explain – finally apologize.   
  
As she entered Larisa’s room, she found her way blocked by Larisa’s mother. Kat took a step back. “Mrs. Dresden,” she started warily, wondering if the rumors had reached the hospital. “I…I heard Larisa is awake.” She tried to peek into the room. Larisa stirred in her bed and her mother gave Kat an icy look.   
  
“I think Larisa has had enough company for today,” she said stiffly.   
  
A tap came from the side of bed and Kat looked up to see Larisa grabbing a pen and paper and scribbling down a quick message. Her mother gave her a measuring look, and then rose from her chair. “I’ll go and get some coffee from the cafeteria,” she said with a grim deliberation and then left.   
  
Kat stared at the white walls, trying to figure out the best way to start. This was the first time she had been able to visit her friend. Before, Larisa’s injuries had been so severe that visiting access was restricted to family members only. The last time she had seen Larisa had been while the paramedics were packing her stretcher into an ambulance. Swathed in bandages, she looked dwarfed in the huge hospital bed. The silence was disconcerting.   
  
“Your mom seems a bit cooler towards me than the last time we met,” she offered awkwardly.   
  
Larisa shrugged, and raised her pen again. She passed the note over to Kat.   
  
_She doesn’t believe the story I told her, doesn’t believe it was a poltergeist. I think she thinks that I’m trying to protect you or something._   
  
Kat sighed. “The whole satanic ritual thing?”   
  
Larisa nodded. _Mom thinks we were devil-worshiping,_ she wrote.   
  
“Her and 99% of the town,” Kat replied, thinking of certain conversations she had had over the past two weeks.   
  
_At school too?_  
  
“Yeah. Melissa wrote a story, including just enough facts about what we were doing beforehand with the herbs and the shotgun with rock-salt,” Kat said in disgust. “At first it was only printed in the school’s newspaper but then she sold it to other papers as well. The police issued a statement this morning saying otherwise but the damage is already been done.”   
  
_Can I see the paper?_   
  
“Sure,” Kat pulled it out of her bag and passed it over. Larisa looked at it briefly and then threw it in the garbage beside her bed.   
  
“How- how are you feeling?” Kat asked tentatively. As soon as she finished the sentence she knew that had been the wrong question to ask.   
  
Larisa’s face tightened. She picked up her pen, but it took her a few minutes before she passed the paper back to Kat. _All right, considering what happened. What about you? How’s your head? Mom said you were in overnight at the hospital._   
  
“It’s fine,” Kat answered. “The doctor said it was only a slight concussion.”   
  
_That’s good._   
  
“So- when do they think you’ll be out of here?” Kat asked.   
  
Larisa scrawled a note and passed it to Kat, dropping her eyes as soon as the paper left her hand. _I’m leaving tomorrow with my parents to go back to Vermont. Burn Specialist/ Plastic surgeon there who could help._   
  
“Oh.” Kat sat there, stunned. “I… see,” she said slowly.   
  
This was perhaps the last time she was going to see her friend for a long time. There was so much she needed to say, to tell her before she left. “Lar, I need to tell-” she stopped.   
  
Larisa’s mother had returned and was standing by the door, tapping her foot.   
  
“She’s had a long day,” she told Kat as she swept into the room. “I think it’s time that you left.”   
  
Kat turned to Larisa. Not enough time, but at least she could apologize. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. “I’m so sorry, Larisa.”   
  
She waited a moment but there was no response. She turned to go to the door.   
  
“ ’s not your fault,” came the hoarse whisper.   
  
Kat turned around.   
  
Larisa had pulled herself up and for the first time since the incident, Kat looked her straight in the eye. Her friend’s skin was swollen and an angry red where it wasn’t covered by bandages.   
  
“I’m going to kill it,” Kat promised her recklessly, not caring what Larisa’s mother thought of the exchange. “I’ll find a way. There has to be a way to get rid of it.”   
  
She left the hospital, the tight feeling in her chest lessoning as she prepared a plan in her mind. Seeing Larisa again had only re-affirmed the ideas that had been bouncing around in her head since she had been released from the hospital.   
  


***

  
  
Kat sat in the Starbucks across from the hospital and absently traced a pattern in the sugar she had spilled on the table with a pen. Her laptop hummed beside her  
  
She took a sip of her cold coffee and grimaced as she began to copy an intricate pattern on a napkin.   
  
“What’re you drawing?”   
  
Kat looked up and saw a guy around her age walk forward and slide into the chair across from her. Blond hair, blue eyes, an easy charm- probably a football jock, she thought, then reassessed as she took in his ragged jeans and thin leather jacket. Maybe not. But whatever he was- he looked like trouble.   
  
“Notes for my Architecture class,” she said coolly, grabbing the rest of her napkin-notes and stuffing them into her purse. She pushed the laptop screen down and crossed her arms.   
  
“No they aren’t,” the guy disagreed cheerfully. “You’re not in Architecture.” He gave her what could only be termed ‘a shit-eating grin’.   
  
Kat glared at him. “How the hell would you know what classes I’m taking?” she asked, trying to figure out whether she knew him or not. He looked like he might be a couple years younger than her and as far as she knew, he wasn’t in any of her classes.   
  
“I know a lot of things,” he answered, winking one of his blue eyes. He obviously thought that he was a hot commodity, and while Kat could see the attraction, she _really_ wasn’t in the mood. “I’m Michael.”   
  
“Cut the crap,” she told him, ignoring the hand he held out. “What do you want?”   
  
He settled back into his chair and stretched his arms back. He smiled again but for an instant she thought she caught a harder gleam in his eye. “Kat Robertson,” he announced, with just a hint of satisfaction.   
  
“I happen to know that you and your friend met with an unfortunate accident a couple of weeks ago.” He paused and lowered his voice, “It’s been all over town- I just wanted to hear some details from someone who was actually there. I hear that your friend got crispy fried and you were carrying around a loaded shotgun. Is that true?”   
  
Kat stared at him, the anger growing in her chest. She leaned forward and prepared to wipe that annoying smirk off his face…   
  
“Is he giving you trouble, miss?”   
  
The voice came from the table beside her and for a moment all Kat could see was a striped polo shirt and baggy jeans. Then he turned around and she could see that, despite his size, it was only a kid. He leaned forward on the table, his shaggy copper-colored hair falling in his face as he faced the other guy.   
  
“I don’t think she wants you around here, man,” he said.   
  
Kat rolled her eyes. He couldn’t be more than sixteen, his baby face complete with freckles and a cupid’s bow mouth. He was going to get killed if he tried to tangle with her un-wanted seatmate.   
  
Speaking of whom, he was looking at the kid with an amused expression. “Are you serious?” he asked as he stood up and loomed over the kid.   
  
“Yeah, I am.” The kid answered evenly. He crossed his arms and stared up at Michael with a stubborn expression on his face. “Leave her alone.”   
  
“I think you should go back to your little girlfriend and let me and Kat finish our conversation.”   
  
Kat glanced over to the table, noticing for the first time the girl sitting there. She looked to be around the same age as her boyfriend, with dirty blonde hair and a bored expression on her face. Kat tipped her head, gesturing towards the two guys and the girl shrugged and took a sip from her tall frapuccino.   
  
If the kid’s girlfriend wasn’t going to call him off- then Kat was going to try her best.   
  
“Hey-” she started but she suddenly realized that she had missed an important turning point in the conversation- where it had gone from talking into shoving.   
  
Michael still had that annoying grin on his face. “Last chance,” he sang out as he gave a light push on the kid’s shoulders.   
  
The kid reacted fast- he grabbed Michael’s arms and in some complicated move that looked like a scene from a martial arts film he managed to twist him around and land him flat on the floor. Michael looked like nothing more than a fish out of water, his mouth open wide in surprise and wheezing, the breath knocked out of him.   
  
He got to his feet slowly, glaring at the kid. But the other Starbucks customers were starting to notice the disturbance and two employees came over to check it out.   
  
“Is there a problem here?” one of them asked.   
  
“Nope,” the kid answered. “Mike was just leaving and he slipped. Right?” He directed the last part of his response towards Michael, who seemed to be weighing his options between the kid, Kat and the two Starbucks employees, one who looked like he might’ve been a bouncer in another life.   
  
“Right,” he answered shortly. He gave the kid an inscrutable glance and then turned to Kat.   
  
“I’ll see you later.”   
  
She gave him the finger.   
  
“Such a lady,” he mocked and started limping towards the door.   
  
As Michael left, the kid turned to her with a cheerful grin and Kat couldn’t help but smile back.   
  
“Lucas,” he identified himself and held out his hand. This time, Kat didn’t refuse and she shook it quickly. “Kat,” she answered. She shook her head. “I don’t know whether or not what you did is going to make him go away all together- but I appreciate the effort.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I’m kind of worried about what that guy is going to do to you after we get out of here.”   
  
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself.” Lucas said as he returned to his own table, across from Kat.   
  
“I’m Sari,” his girlfriend offered as she rolled her eyes. “Show-off,” she told him as he sat down.   
  
Lucas shrugged, trying to contain his grin but failing.   
  
“Well- thanks,” Kat returned awkwardly. “Can I- can I buy you a coffee or something? For both of you?”   
  
“Sure,” it was the girl who answered this time. “I’ll have a chocolate chip frappuccino.”   
  
“Um... How about a hot chocolate?” Lucas added.   
  
Kat went up to the counter and ordered the drinks. She came back to their seats and offered it to them.   
  
“Want to sit down?” the girl offered and she scooted over in the narrow booth. Kat debated for a moment and then decided to sit down. It would be nice to talk with someone who didn’t know about what happened with her and Larisa.   
  
“So, why was that guy bothering you?” Lucas asked as he stirred the foam around in his drink.   
Or maybe it wasn’t possible to ignore it.   
  
“Oh- it wasn’t really anything,” Kat said flatly.   
  
Both Lucas and Sari looked at her and Kat couldn’t contain the flush that was spreading to her cheeks.   
  
“Does it have anything to do with the protective circles and exorcisms that you were drawing on your napkins?” Sari asked.   
  
Kat froze.   
  
“Yeah, I noticed those too,” Lucas added casually, as if they were discussing something as mundane as schoolwork or a sports score.   
  
“I gotta go,” Kat muttered as she grabbed her bag and purse. “Enjoy your drinks and thanks again for getting that guy off my back.”   
  
“Hey- wait!” she could hear Lucas calling after her but she didn’t stop.   
  


***

  
  
_Who the hell were those kids?_ Kat paced back and forth angrily as she waited at the bus stop. The ring of her cell phone interrupted her train of thought.   
  
“Hello?” she answered.   
  
“Hello,” a low, gravelly voice came through. “Is this Katherine Robertson?”   
  
“Yeah, this is she,” Kat said, instantly suspicious of the unfamiliar voice. She did not want any more surprises today. “Who is this?” If this was another person asking her for the ‘real version’ of the day’s events she was going to answer with some choice expletives and then hunt down whichever of her friends had given out her number. The number of suspects would likely be high though, considering the amount of suspicion her friends had treated her with in the past two weeks.   
  
“I was given your number by Anson Bunt a few weeks ago,” he answered, ignoring her question.   
  
“I’m told you have a problem with a nasty poltergeist.”   
  
“Yeah, well- ,” Kat answered sarcastically. “That’s an understatement. Nice of your organization to actually do anything. Do you always call after these incidents, wondering when you can schedule an interview time or if it’s possible to study the spirit?”   
  
“Now hold on, sweetheart-” the man on the phone started but Kat wasn’t about to let him continue.   
  
“My friend is lying in a hospital bed with third degree burns to her face and shoulders,” she said, trying in vain to keep her voice from rising. “She might be blind in one eye and her voice might never be the same because of burns caused by this _poltergeist_.” She spat the last word out.   
  
“If you want to study and try to understand it, then be my guest. I hope it burns you alive!” She hit the end call button on her phone and sat down on an empty bench, shaking and trying to control the tears running down her face.   
  
Her phone rang. She ignored it. It rang again and Kat picked it up, intending to turn it off. The box for text messages came up on her screen. _One new text message,_ it read.   
  
She hit the enter button to read and the message popped up.   
  
_I can tell you how to kill it. (290) 356-2100_  
  
She stared at it for a while, and then dialed the number. It rang once, twice, “You planning on listening now?” came the same voice in a dry tone.   
  
“I’m listening,” Kat told him, pulling herself together. She opened a notebook and awkwardly grabbed a pen out of her purse. “Tell me everything.”   
  


***


	3. Interlude

Michael lay back on the messy motel bed, letting out a small hiss as his back hit the hard mattress. He was going to have words with Lucas when he got back- there was a difference between making it _look_ real and actual method acting.   
  
He debated getting ice from the machine outside but decided otherwise. Instead, he picked up the John Grisham book from the small stack Sari had picked up at a flea market the week before.   
  
Five minutes later the rattle of the lock let him know that Lucas and Sari had returned. Michael attempted to pull himself up, but didn’t quite manage before they let themselves in.   
  
“So?” he asked.  
  
Sari wrinkled her nose as she flopped onto the other bed. “No luck.”  
  
“What, nothing?”  
  
“We spooked her,” Lucas leaned against the TV stand. He sighed in disgust. “We tried to ask her about the designs she was drawing- and she freaked out.”  
  
“Shit.”   
  
“But Sari had the idea to get Bobby to call her, see if he could get her to tell him anymore.”  
  
Michael snorted. “Right, like she’s going to talk to some strange man on the phone rather than you two? You really must have scared her. I think I was making better progress…”  
  
“Not if Bobby tells the truth- that that psychic called him,” Sari answered smugly. “He’s going to talk to her and figure out if she’s the one who’s been causing the poltergeist activity.”  
  
“Then there’s two options,” Lucas continued. “I thought of this part: if he decides she’s not actually behind it, he’ll tell her about a new-agey cleansing ritual -complete bull, of course- telling her that it has to be done tomorrow. He won’t mention that we’ll be killing whatever is in that house tonight.”  
  
“And if it is her?”  
  
Sari shrugged as she heaved her bag on the bed and unzipped it. “We know she’s staying in the motel down the street- we can have a chat tomorrow about it.” She pulled out her Colt pistols and tossed them on the bed, along with two flasks of holy water.  
  
“Kidnapping and maybe exorcising, I like it,” Michael looked over at the two of them. “But you know this plan is sketchy as hell,” he said. “Sam and Dean’d kill us if they knew we were going in blind like this.”  
  
“Do you have a better idea?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows. He came and sat down beside Michael.   
  
“Hell, no,” Michael said. “Just thought I should state the obvious.”   
  
“Why are you still lying there?” Lucas asked as he peered over at Michael.  
  
“Because genius, you broke my back when you flipped me,” Michael said with a groan as he shifted so he could face Lucas. “Didn’t we say that you were going to act as if you’d thrown me, not actually doing it?”  
  
“Ah jeez, Mike, I’m sorry!” Lucas leaned over him, worry showing in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to…”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know. S’okay.”  
  
“Can I get you anything? You want some ice?”   
  
“Ice would be great.”  
  
While Lucas trotted off to fetch some ice, Sari let out a small snort from over where she was cleaning her guns on the bed.  
  
“What?” Michael asked.  
  
“Nothing,” Sari made the sound of a whip cracking and grinned widely at him. “I was so sure you were the whipped one in the relationship.”  
  
Michael grinned back. “I may give that impression but both Lucas and I know who the real master is.”  
  
He really should’ve known from experience to expect the shower of ice.  
  
The metal bucked floated in the air beside him as he swore and rolled off the bed.   
  
“Oh- you better watch your back, I’m so going to get you for that,” he warned the smirking Lucas, who was leaning against the doorway.  
  
“You better clean that off soon, Mike,” Lucas answered innocently. “Or else you’re going to be sleeping in a wet spot tonight.”  
  
Michael swept the ice chips to the other side of the bed. “Oops, I guess it’ll be you with the bed-wetting sheets tonight.”   
  
“Or neither of you will be sleeping there tonight if this job works out,” Sari muttered as she rolled her eyes.  
  
Lucas held out another bucket. “Here, I actually did get you some.”   
  
Michael reached out to take the bucket, but Lucas moved it back out of reach, warning, “If you dump this on me, I’m not getting another one for you.”  
  
Michael scowled, wondering how Lucas read his intentions so easily. “Fine,” he said. “Truce?”   
  
Lucas let him take the bucket. “Yeah, truce.” He grinned at Michael. “I promise not to go so hard on you next time, grandpa.”  
  
Michael swung a punch at him, which Lucas easily dodged. “You’re just lucky I let you learn my trade secrets.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said flippantly as he moved over to where Sari had spread her weapons across the bed.   
  
“You think we’re going to need all this?” he asked. “It’s just a basic cleansing and banishing. When we went there this afternoon it seemed pretty quiet, and that old woman who lives in the downstairs part didn’t seemed bothered at all.”  
  
Sari shrugged. “I don’t know- but I was checking out the medical records of that girl who was with Kat. Whatever it was that attacked them- it was nasty. She has burns on over sixty per cent of her body.” She picked up her sawed-off shotgun and peered critically down the barrel. “It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”  
  
“Plus,” Michael cut in. “The EMF readings seemed kinda high for a simple poltergeist.”  
  
“You think there could be another spirit in there as well?” Lucas asked.  
  
“That’s what we had in my old house in Lawrence,” Sari said. She nodded at Michael. “You find anything else about the house in the archives?”  
  
“Nope,” he answered. “It’s squeaky clean as far as houses go. No murders, fires, anything that’d suggest nasty family secrets.” He pulled out the tattered folder that lay beside the telephone and read, “It was built in 1938 by the Rogers family, stayed in the family until 1990 when it was purchased by an Anthony Sandbury and his wife. He died last year from a heart attack according the ME’s autopsy. Seems normal enough.”   
  
He put down the folder. “But yeah, can’t hurt to be careful.” He gave a Lucas a smirk. “Not all of us can be psychic wonders, some of us have to do things the old-fashioned way.”   
  
Lucas lazily flipped him the bird.   
  
A cell phone rang somewhere in the room. Michael reached for his out of habit, before he remembered it had met its untimely demise while he had been wrestling with a kelpie. He raised his eyebrows as the phone continued to ring.  
  
“It’s not mine,” Lucas said.  
  
Both he and Michael looked over at Sari. “What?” she said. “Oh-” She dug the phone out from her jacket.   
  
“Hello? Yeah.” Sari chewed her lip as she listened. “Okay, thanks a lot, Bobby. Yeah, we’ll give you a call when we’re done.”  
  
She flipped the phone shut. “So, from what she told him, Bobby doesn’t think Kat has anything to do with it.” She paused. “Other than being unlucky enough to live in the house.”  
  
Lucas nodded. “Did he need to tell her about that fake cleansing ritual?”  
  
“Yeah, and he said he put special emphasis on the fact that it needs to be done tomorrow, so we should be good,” Sari answered.   
  
“Works for me,” Michael said. “What time does the old lady go to bridge again?”  
  
“Eight.”  
  
Lucas checked his watch. “That gives us four hours,” he pointed out. “We gonna get something for dinner first?”   
  
Michael lay back, pushing the folder to the side, “You and Sari go ahead. Bring me something back.”  
  
“What’re you going to do in the meantime?” Sari asked, her voice skeptical.   
  
“ I’m going to take it easy, since I’m injured.”  
  
Both Sari and Lucas snorted.  
  
“All right, grandpa.”   
  
“You know, maybe you shouldn’t come tonight…”   
  
“Nevermind, I’m coming,” he says, with a rueful grin. He heaved himself up from the bed, cuffing Lucas on the shoulder as they headed out the door. “That’s for disrespecting the old man.”  
  


***


	4. Part Three

Kat laid everything out on the bed and her eyes flicked over each item in turn. There was only so much she could take with her. And the man on the phone – Bobby-- had told her that it was best to pack light.   
  


***

  
  
_“Anson Bunt called you?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah,” the man chuckled. “He knows his own limitations.”  
  
“So, who are you?” she asked. “Some kind of ghost-busting consultant?”  
  
“Name’s Bobby Singer,” came the answer. “And yeah, let’s go with consultant. I did jobs myself when I was younger but nowadays I let others handle it.”  
  
“You know how I can kill this poltergeist?” she asked.  
  
“Well, I don’t know exactly if killin’s the best word for it,” he said. “Sometimes you can only banish them. And sometimes the only thing ya can do is cut your losses and run.” He cleared his throat. “But I need to know the details- everything you can remember before I can tell you how to deal with it.”  
  
She recounted the events of the past month. Bobby didn’t say much, just grunted when she paused in her story. He asked a few questions after she finished, to clarify details and then Kat waited patiently while he thought.   
  
“Yep, I think you got yourself a nasty poltergeist,” he finally answered.  
  
“Pretty sure I’ve figured that out already,” she replied.  
  
“You want my help or not?” he asked, his tone dry but not offended.  
  
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just been a long day. Yes, I do. Please.”   
  
“It shouldn’t be too difficult. Just a quick cleansing of the house should do it.”  
  
“Good,” she said. “I already have a basic- but I want to know that I have it right.”   
  
“All right.” Bobby didn’t sound surprised. “What’re your ideas?”   
  
She described the cleansing ritual she had found on a hoodoo website.  
  
“That should work…” he said. “But I have one that’ll work better.” He told her one that was similar, only it seemed to require a lot fewer supplies and a lot more mumbo jumbo.  
  
“You sure I need to do all that?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it still work if I…”  
  
“No, you to do it exactly the way I told you,” Bobby said. “And you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to do it. The moon’s-- ah-- not aligned right. The umm, herbs you’re using will work better tomorrow.”  
  
He didn’t wait for Kat to reply. “All right, so here’s how you’re going to go about this…”_   
  


***

  
  
Sure, wait until tomorrow. Not going to happen. She was ready _now_ and if she wanted to waste this poltergeist, finish this business before Larisa left, she had to do it tonight. Mrs. Sandbury was at her bridge club until late in the evening so the house would be empty for at least a few hours.   
  
Kat grabbed her backpack of supplies from the bed and slung it over her shoulder. Out the window the sky was a dusky blue and the sun low on the horizon. Time to go. Picking up her car keys and the large key card from the motel, she exited the room and shut the door with a forceful click. She wasn’t coming back until the job was done.  
  
Kat was almost at the intersection that led down to her old house when she slowed down, thinking. She had all the supplies she needed for Bobby’s cleansing ritual-- holy water snitched from the baptismal font at the local Catholic church just in case-- but no actual firepower. The shotgun she had borrowed from George had been confiscated by the police as evidence and they hadn’t released it yet. She pursed her lips- it was a little late to be getting a firearm from any store.   
  
Her best bet was to hope that George didn’t hold a grudge.  
  
“Kat- the police came here earlier today, asking me about the shotgun. It’s registered in my name, remember? I could be in serious trouble if they decide I had something to do with yours and Larisa’s…accident.” George said unhappily as he stood in his doorway. He folded his arms over his ample paunch and regarded her skeptically.   
  
“George- I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important. Please, I need it for protection.” Kat pleaded.  
  
George narrowed his eyes. “What kind of trouble have you got into that you need a shotgun, Kat? You need some protection, me and the boys and hell-- you know, even Hal-- any of us would be happy to go and give whoever it is a good beating.”  
  
Kat considered his proposal for a second and then dismissed it. George looked like an overgrown teddy bear, not particularly threatening even though his height and girth gave him some confidence. But she doubted that he or any of Hal’s friends knew how to deal with a poltergeist.   
  
She lied, “It’s not something… it’s more for peace of mind, okay? I’m going back to sleep in my apartment tonight. It’ll be the first time since the attack and I know I’d feel safer if I had a gun beside me.”   
  
Kat put on her best sincere face. “C’mon, you know me, George. I know how to use it. I’m pretty sure I won’t need it. But it’d make me feel better, all the same. Just for tonight? Please?”  
  
George gave her a long look. “It’s not for any crazy Satanist stuff?”  
  
Kat felt her heart sink.  
  
“Kidding.” George gave her a rueful smile. “I’m kidding. Melissa’s on crack and people are crazy to believe whatever she writes.” He shrugged. “Wait one sec, I’ll go get my Browning. 20 gauge okay?”  
  
Kat smiled back tentatively. “That’d be great. Thanks.” She leaned forward gave him a hug, letting out a small sigh of relief.   
  
George patted awkwardly her on the back after a few seconds and excused himself to go and get the gun.   
  


***

  
  
Kat pulled into the driveway, letting the car idle for a minute. She stared up at the house. Tucked away on the corner lot, she knew that in the daytime it looked like any other one in the neighborhood, slightly rundown maybe and decrepit-looking. It wasn’t the typical horror movie house. But tonight…  
  
 _Enough wimping out_ \- she chided herself. The longer she waited, the less time she had before Mrs. Sandbury came home. She killed the engine. Pulling her backpack and the shotgun into her lap, she reached across the passenger seat and grabbed a handful of rock salt shells before opening the door. Almost as an afterthought, she also took a few real shotgun shells George had given her, and slipped them all into her pocket.   
  
Kat surreptitiously tried to load the gun as she started walking towards the house. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw light quickly flash across an upper-level window.   
  
She stopped. Watching the window carefully, she finished loading. Maybe it had been her imagination… but no, there was another beam of light, fainter this time, but definitely there.   
Spirit or person? Only one way to find out.  
  
Kat took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she made her way to the back door. Trying her key she frowned. It was unlocked.   
  
She slipped in quietly and closed the door, the click sounding throughout the house. The grandfather clock beside the coat-rack ticked steadily and she leaned against it as she took off her shoes. Turning on the hall light, Kat started up the stairs to her apartment, her socked feet silent on the wooden steps. Halfway up the stairs, a muffled laugh sounded above her and Kat tightened her grip on the shotgun.   
  
She leaned against the door, straining to hear the soft voices inside. Although she couldn’t be sure, they sounded people- not police, they would have left a car outside the house. Larisa and her parents? Unlikely, otherwise there’d be lights on. So most likely, trespassers.  
  
A small smile crossed her face. Whatever reason they were in her apartment, they were about to get a surprise.  
  
Kat dropped her bag on the floor and settled her stance, before twisting the handle and flinging open the apartment door.   
  
Two shadowy figures were in the living room, one bent over her TV and the other fiddling with what looked like a walkie-talkie.   
  
“Whoah! Easy there,” came a voice from behind her and Kat whirled around, aiming the shotgun at a familiar figure.   
  
“Hey, it’s okay.” It was the asshole from the coffee shop. Michael. He held his arms up to show he wasn’t armed, but Kat kept the gun trained on him.  
  
“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” she asked.   
  
Suddenly aware that she had left her back vulnerable to attack from behind, Kat stepped to the side so it was against the door frame. She flicked a glance to the inside of her apartment. Kat let her gaze drift from Michael to stare in stunned disbelief at the scene inside. Lucas gave her a small awkward wave and Sari nodded at her as she stood up.   
  
Michael cleared his throat and Kat quickly turned her attention back to him.   
  
“We’re here to get rid of the poltergeist,” he said in a low voice, his hands still in the air. “So, if you’d like to lower that,” he gestured with a nod, “then we can go inside and explain.”  
  
Kat glared at him. Michael raised his eyebrows at her. “Please?” he asked.  
  
Kat reluctantly lowered her gun and stormed into the apartment, Michael following close behind.  
  
She suppressed a shiver as she walked in; the wall nearest to the kitchen was still charred from the fireball, and Kat quickly averted her eyes, training them instead on the three kids in front of her.   
  
“Okay. So what’s this about?” she asked as she leaned against the kitchen table, crossing her arms. “You guys wanted to play ghost-hunters, huh? Let me tell you, it’s not like in those shows. These things are dangerous.”  
  
Sari coughed and Kat could’ve sworn that the looks she saw pass between the three of them were ones of amusement.   
  
“We know they’re dangerous.” Lucas said. “Look- it’s kind of our job. We hunt spirits.”  
  
Kat huffed a sigh of disbelief. “Your job? Aren’t you a little _young_ for a job. Shouldn’t you be in school?”  
  
Lucas gave her pained look. “That’s not really relevant at the moment- okay? Bobby Singer sent us here to get rid of the poltergeist in your house, and that’s what we’re doing. We won’t touch anything and everything will be exactly where you left it- erm, unless the poltergeist moves it.”  
  
“Wait, Bobby sent you?” Kat tried to piece together all the information. “The guy I talked to on the phone today?”   
  
Michael took over. “Yeah- he was the one who sent us the information, he heard about your case through one of his contacts, a psychic or something. We got him to tell you to wait until tomorrow, after we finished.”  
  
“How nice of you to keep me in the loop about what’s happening in my _own_ home,” Kat answered sarcastically.   
  
Michael blew out a sigh. “Look, we’re sorry about that. And about this morning, too. I’m uh, not usually such an asshole, honestly.” His smile was charming, but Kat wasn’t buying it.  
  
“Out,” she said flatly, pointing to the door. “I can handle this by myself, thanks.”  
  
“Wait-” said Michael. “Okay, so we didn’t go about this in the most legal of ways, but since we’re here, we can help.”   
  
“That gun of yours isn’t going to do much good, you know that, right?” Sari spoke up for the first time. “Bullets don’t do anything against spirits.” She grabbed her own duffel bag and heaved it up on the table.   
  
“It’s loaded with rock-salt,” Kat said. “Which, I have on good authority works on ghosts.”   
  
Another loaded glance passed between the three of them. Kat was getting tired of it. “What?” she asked.   
  
“Nothing-” Michael said casually. “Does the name Win-”  
  
A distant siren wailed in the distance, making all of them jump.  
  
“Maybe we can trade life stories later, after we get rid of the poltergeist?” Sari asked, as she rapidly searched through her bag, pulling out four small cloth bags. “Angelica root and Van-Van oil in all four corners of the house on both floors,” she explained to Kat.  
  
Lucas nodded as he caught the bag Sari tossed to him. “She’s right Mike- we should do this now, before the spirit has time to get together an arsenal.”  
  
“Yeah-” Michael agreed. “Pass me two of the bags, Sari? I think I can get into the ground apartment. You and Lucas cover this floor, okay?”  
  
Sari nodded, and handed over the two bags. “You want anything else?” she asked, zipping the bag open wider, so Kat could see flasks and old books mixed in with pistols and other hand-guns, and a couple of wicked-looking knives in black sheathes scattered in among the other objects.   
  
“Naw,” Michael said with a grin. He tapped his forearm, and slipped his sleeve up to reveal a knife sheath with small silver curved blade strapped in it.  
  
He looked over at Kat, but she kept her face carefully blank.   
  
Michael looked disappointed at her non-reaction. “You want to come with me downstairs?” he asked.   
  
Kat took a deep breath, preparing to argue but then thought better of it. If these kids had the same information that Bobby had given her, then these cloth bags would do the same thing. And with four people helping, the sooner this could be over.   
  
She shrugged. “I guess so. Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice do I?”  
  
“You could always wait in your car,” Sari offered.  
  
Kat smiled tightly. “No thanks.”  
  
She held out her hand and Michael handed her a bag. Kat sniffed at the top, where it was loosely tied, inhaled the fresh scent of the angelica.   
  
“You guys want North-South or East-West?” Michael asked.   
  
“We’ll take North-South,” said Lucas. “Watch out for any objects moving though- -remember what Dean told us about the knives in Lawrence?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, and the lamp cord that almost strangled Sam, I remember. We’ll keep our eyes peeled for any killer household objects.” Michael agreed as he headed for the door.  
  
Kat started at the names and narrowed her eyes as she followed Michael to the door. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to take the shotgun. She decided to take it, thinking that she’d rather have it, than be empty-handed against the poltergeist with only a bag of herbs to help defend herself. She slung her bag on her back as well.   
  
Michael held the door open for Kat as they crossed the doorway and started downstairs to Mrs. Sandbury’s apartment.   
  
“Dean and Sam?” she asked. “Are they brothers- ghost hunters?”  
  
Michael gave her an appraising look before grinning. “So you _do_ know the Winchesters,” he said with satisfaction.   
  
Kat nodded, startled that after all these years she was finally getting more information about them, finding out that she wasn’t crazy. “They helped me and an idiot ex-boyfriend out of a tight spot at an asylum a few years ago.”   
  
They paused in front of the frosted glass door that led to the rest of the house. Michael tried the handle, grimacing when he found it locked.   
  
“Well that explains a lot,” he said, as he pulled out a narrow zippered case from his back pocket and selected two thin pieces of metal.   
  
Kat watched in fascination as Michael bent down and started picking the lock. That could be a useful skill to have, considering how many times she’d been locked out by Larisa after forgetting her keys. “And you know Sam and Dean- the Winchesters- from…what?” she asked dryly. “Previous life of crime?”  
  
Michael bit his lip in concentration as he worked the lock. He answered distractedly. “Yeah- I mean no- not really.” The door clicked open and he looked up at Kat. “Something like what happened to you, nasty monsters in the dark that they helped kill. I was just a kid.” He pushed open the door slowly, and Kat shone her flashlight, illuminating the pink wallpaper, and the meticulously scrubbed floor.  
  
Michael hunched down, staying in the shadows as he went over by the window to pull the curtains shut.   
  
“How old were you?” Kat asked, curious as he came back to stand by her.   
  
“Twelve. The first time.” His voice was more guarded than before. He changed the subject. “What I don’t get is why this poltergeist isn’t bothering your landlady. It’s the same house-”  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe- the poltergeist is a spirit that doesn’t want her hurt?” Kat said, slowly. She shone her light on the photographs that lined the mantel in the sitting room. “Her husband died only a little while ago, maybe he hasn’t moved on?”  
  
Michael turned on his own flashlight and examined the pictures. “A poltergeist who was a pastor before he died?” he asked skeptically, pointing to a photo that showed Mrs. Sandbury standing in front of a small church, with a short, rotund man who was wearing a collar and smiling broadly. The same man appeared in most of the other photos.   
  
“Maybe,” he said and shrugged. “Or maybe this poltergeist just took a dislike to you and your friend specifically.”  
  
“Gee, thanks,” Kat answered. “It’d be nice if these supernatural creepy crawlies would stop picking places where I live to haunt.”  
  
Michael let out a small laugh. “Yeah well, welcome to the club.”  
  
They stood in the middle of the sitting room, sweeping their flashlights around, checking for any movement.   
  
“Right. So, we get East-West,” Michael said. “One hoodoo bag on each side of the house.”  
  
Kat looked behind her. “East would be in the kitchen, West would be…in Mrs. Sandbury’s bedroom,” she noted.  
  
“Huh, just what I signed up for in this job, the chance to visit old ladies’ bedrooms,” muttered Michael.   
  
There was a soft buzzing noise and Kat turned to see Michael take out a cellphone. “Yeah,” he answered softly. “We’re almost in place. Give us two minutes.” He hung up.  
  
“Lucas and Sari are in place,” he told Kat. “We need to move quickly; once the poltergeist gets an idea what we’re doing it’s going to do everything it can to stop us.” His eyes scanned the dimly lit room rapidly. “I’m surprised it hasn’t tried anything already.”   
  
A shiver of apprehension ran through Kat.   
  
Michael turned his attention back to her. “Which side do you want?” he asked.   
  
She shrugged. “I’ll take the bedroom.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Michael said. A wide smile crossed his face. “You ready to kill this creepy bastard?”  
  
Despite herself, Kat grinned back. “Damn right I am.”   
  
“Let’s go then,” Michael took out his hammer and the bag of herbs and started creeping towards the dark kitchen.  
  
Kat mirrored his action as she moved closer to the bedroom. Carefully opening the door, she shone her flashlight across the quilted bed and lilac print wallpaper. Moving further inside she sniffed cautiously; there was a faint odor of rotten eggs in the air. Suddenly more nervous than before, she rushed over to the far wall, nearly tripping on the throw rug in the process.   
  
Laying down her gun and flashlight, Kat knelt by the bed and pushed against it, moving it over a few inches. Mrs. Sandbury would notice the hole in her baseboard eventually, but it didn’t have to be tonight.  
  
The feeling of being watched prickled at the back of her neck and Kat shot a quick look over her shoulder, trying not to cringe as she imagined what was behind her. But her glance revealed nothing and she took a deep breath.  
  
Taking out the small hammer she had bought earlier that evening, Kat pounded it against the wall. The plaster gave way easily and Kat stuffed her herb-bag inside the tiny hole. Not sure of what kind of reaction to expect, Kat grabbed her gun, and huddled against the bed, ready for anything the poltergeist might throw against her.   
  
But the silence and the same oppressive dark continued and the creeping feeling of being watched grew so strong that she felt like screaming- or hiding under the covers.   
  
Kat shone her flashlight around frantically, trying to see into the dark corners of the room, looking for any movement. Her flashlight caught a flash of white on the floor, the bare space shining bright where the rug was bunched up from her near-fall. She lifted the rug to move it back and her breath caught in her throat as she tried to make sense of the symbols she was seeing.   
  
The door opened further and she jerked back as a light shone in her face.   
  
“Did you have any trouble-” she heard Michael start to say.  
  
She just pointed to the floor… and to the circle she had uncovered.   
  
“What the-” Michael swore and he flicked on the light, temporarily blinding them both.  
  
He shut the door and squatted down beside her to study the circle- an elaborate conjuring circle she had seen before in the library’s grimoire.   
  
“Shit,” Michael said as he examined the conjuring circle. He grabbed Kat’s arm and started pulling her away. Kat shook him off.   
  
“We need to get out of here,” Michael said, his voice low and rough. “That’s not for calling up familiars or low level spirits- this is serious shit, we’re talking big-time demons. In fact…”   
  
He jumped up and ran over to the closet, flinging it open.   
  
“Great. Freaking great.”   
  
Kat stood up. The sickening feeling that they had made a huge mistake ran through her as she looked at the small fold-out table inside the closet.   
  
“Is that a black altar?” she asked, coming to stand by him. It was a gruesome display. A withered human hand sat beside a chalice filled with dried and flaking blood. Tiny, blackened bones circled a cracked mirror, with demonic symbolics inscribed in blood on it.   
  
“Yep,” Michael gritted his teeth. He pulled out his cellphone and started dialing. “We have a problem,” he said quickly. “Yeah, I know it didn’t work. Because it’s not a poltergeist- it’s a demon.”  
  
He listened. “We’ve just found a black altar and conjuring circle-”  
  
“Two.”  
  
“What?” Michael asked, shooting her a brief glance.  
  
“Two conjuring circles.” Kat showed him the smaller circle she had uncovered on the other side of the bed.   
  
“Two conjuring circles,” he said resignedly into the phone. “We’re dealing with a major player here. Meet us downstairs… and bring the bag.”  
  
He flipped his phone shut and ran a hand over his face, sighing loudly.  
  
“I have holy water in my backpack,” Kat said. “And a couple exorcisms that I wrote down before I knew they wouldn’t work on a poltergeist.”  
  
“They might come in handy,” Michael said, giving her a sickly smile. “You should probably take them out,” he continued as he opened the door.   
  
Kat nodded and bent down to pick up her stuff. She moved to follow Michael out of the room and but she hadn’t reached the door when she heard a crash. She froze. “Michael?” she whispered.   
  
There was no response and Kat hesitated before cautiously moving further out into hallway.   
Michael lay on the floor in front of her. A small figure was crouched over him, feeling for the pulse in his neck. She looked up at Kat.   
  
“Hello, Katherine,” said Mrs. Sandbury gently.  
  
Kat felt an exploding pain as a heavy object hit the back of her head. She fell forward- the last thing she saw was the floor rushing up to meet her.  
  


***


	5. Part Four

Her first thought was that she had a wicked hangover- her head hadn’t throbbed like this since freshman year. Something cool and wet against her forehead relieved the ache a little and she sighed in relief, _thank God for Larisa…_ Kat tentatively opened her eyes and reality set back in. She was sitting in a chair, back in the bedroom, Mrs. Sandbury standing above her, a worried expression on her face as she took the cloth away.   
  
“Oh thank goodness!” she said, noticing Kat was awake. “That was a nasty bump you got. Your friend woke up much sooner- I was getting worried.”  
  
“Michael-” Kat couldn’t see him. She tried to stand up, but found she couldn’t move. Her arms and legs were fixed-- she glanced down and saw they were duct-tapped to the chair.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury watched while Kat began to struggle wildly and when Kat collapsed back against the chair, she laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry my dear, but I had no choice.”  
  
She moved to the side and Kat could see Michael in a similar situation across the room.   
  
“Your friend- Michael? He’s fine.” Mrs. Sandbury clucked. “Unfortunately, he has quite a potty mouth, so I had to gag him.”   
  
Michael shot her a furious glare, as he worked against the towel stuffed against his mouth.   
  
“He also knows too much Latin.” she continued. “And curiously, what seemed to be part of an exorcism ritual-” Mrs. Sandbury’s hand turned into painful vice and Kat winced.  
  
Kat thought fast, her eyes darting around the room. So far there was no sign that Lucas and Sari had been found… which was good. Hopefully they’d call the police. In the meantime, she and Michael needed a distraction and to figure out what the hell Mrs. Sandbury was up to. “He’s a…a Classics Major. When he’s tied up he likes to recite Latin. He’s kinky like that,” she said.   
  
Michael raised his eyebrows in a ‘what-the-hell?’ expression and Kat shrugged.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury chuckled. “Don’t lie, Katherine. I know you and your boyfriend came here to get rid of whatever has been in the house.” She picked up one of Kat’s abandoned hoodoo pouches from her bag.  
  
“But I don’t think you knew what you were dealing with- these aren't the right tools to get rid of an imp,” she said, thoughtfully weighing the bag in her hand before setting it back down.   
  
“An imp- that’s what you sent against me and Larisa?” Kat asked.  
  
“Yes,” Mrs. Sandbury answered, not elaborating. She turned her back to Kat and opened a dresser drawer, pulling out a large knife that glinted dully in the light.   
  
_Shit. Not good._ Kat suddenly realized that she was sitting in a roughly drawn triangle, directly in front of the original conjuring circle they had uncovered. Two straight lines connected the two sigils. The bed had been pushed further against the wall, the rug completely removed and Kat could see Michael was in another charcoal circle. The whole pattern was becoming clear.   
  
“Christo,” Kat said, remembering the word that demons hated. There was no response from Mrs. Sandbury, not even a twitch of the shoulders. “I’m not possessed,” she answered calmly, turning around again.   
  
“Why?” Kat asked, pushing down the terror that was threatening to rise up. She recognized the Seal of Solomon and if Mrs. Sandbury wasn’t possessed then…“What was the point? Why did you have the imp attack us?”   
  
“It’s what I do, dear. Although it has been a while…” Mrs. Sandbury crooned as she sharpened her knife against a whetstone.   
  
She focused back on Kat. “You were more of a training run. I didn’t want to involve you in this part, but you left me no choice.” She reached over and drew the knife along Kat’s forearm.   
  
Kat hissed and recoiled, and blood welled up immediately from the cut.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury examined the blade. “Could be a little sharper, don’t you think think, young man?” she asked Michael. “Slitting throats can be a messy and painful business. And I like to be as humane as possible.”  
  
She smiled and grabbed some black candles, placing them at various points around the conjuring circle.   
  
“Mrs. Sandbury-” Kat started. Blood dripped from the cut down onto the floor.   
  
There was a loud thump from outside the room, followed by a curious dragging, scraping sound. The door was at her back and Kat craned her neck, trying to see.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury opened the door. “I see we have more guests,” she called.   
  
Lucas and Sari were dragged slowly and unwillingly into the room, electrical cords wrapped tightly around their necks.   
  
A familiar ball of white light was in front of them, holding the cords. It hissed words in an unfamiliar language to Mrs. Sandbury and Kat realized that it must be the imp in corporeal form.   
  
“Tsk, tsk,” Mrs. Sandbury said softly, listening to the imp. She turned back to Kat “You and your friends don’t respect private property, do you, Katherine?” She shook her head and gestured to the imp. The imp pulled the cords higher in the air, so that Lucas and Sari had to stand on their tip-toes, clawing frantically at the nooses that were tightening around their necks.   
  
“Stop!” Kat yelled, watching in horror as Sari’s eyes rolled back in her head. There were several thuds from the other side of the room as Michael struggled unsuccessfully against his bonds.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury watched calmly as first Sari and then Lucas sagged, unconscious, at her feet.   
  
“Stop, stop, stop, stop! Don’t kill them, please,” Kat begged her.  
  
There were several agonizing more seconds as the imp continued to tighten the cords and then Mrs. Sandbury snapped her fingers. The cords went slack and she bent down to check them. Mrs. Sandbury went over to her dresser to grab some her roll of duct tape and Kat breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Mrs. Sandbury looked over at her. “They’re alive at moment.” She expertly started to bind hands and feet together behind their back. “But I wouldn’t count on that fact for much longer.”   
  
“How do you plan on hiding this?” Kat asked her, trying to keep her voice steady. “You can’t kill us and then expect no one to notice. People know I came here tonight, they’ll look for me if I go missing.”   
  
Mrs. Sandbury laughed. “Oh my dear, but you won’t be missing. You’ll be in plain sight.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That’s the beauty of this arrangement, and I have to say that most of it is thanks to yours and Larisa’s little experiment earlier,” Mrs. Sandbury said, standing up. “Keep an eye on them,” she told the imp and it buzzed in response.   
  
“There have already been accusations of satanic acts being performed in this town, and it wasn’t me they singled out. I doubt the police will be surprised to learn that it escalated to this _tragic_ conclusion. Triple homicide and suicide. My, what a troubled childhood she must have had…” She shook her head in mock sadness.  
  
“It’s hard to fake things like that nowadays,” Kat said. “With all the advances in crime scenes investigations, it won’t hold up.”  
  
“This one will.”   
  
“I won’t be killing anyone,” Kat retorted.  
  
“Oh, but you will,” Mrs. Sandbury repeated. “You’ll have blood on your hands before the night is through, Katherine. And I’ll have come home to find this horrific scene.” She leaned over Kat and undid Kat’s necklace, letting the silver pentacle and cross fall to the floor. Then she replaced it with a blackened pendant of an inverted cross. It felt heavy and _wrong_ touching her skin.   
  
“But enough chit-chat,” Mrs. Sandbury said, taking another dish-towel and stuffing it into Kat’s mouth and tied it behind her head. Kat gagged on it for a moment, struggling to breathe. Mrs. Sandbury noticed and loosened it, patting her cheek. “Don’t want you dying yet, dear.” She bustled around, lighting the candles and checking the lines of her circle.   
  
Kat met Michael’s eyes. He tipped his head down, gesturing to Lucas and Sari. Kat checked; there was no movement from Sari but Lucas’s eyelashes fluttered.   
  
She tried to communicate this to Michael but all she ended up with was a frustrated look.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury stepped in front of her, holding out a large golden bowl. Kat shrank back as Mrs. Sandbury took out her knife and drew it lightly across her collarbone, letting the blood drip down to collect in the bowl. Kat grew dizzy watching her blood flow, and she blinked rapidly as the room swam in front of her eyes.   
  
Finally, Mrs. Sandbury took the bowl away and pressed a large cloth to the gash, stopping the flow. She held it there for a few minutes and then went across the room to perform the same action on Michael. She didn’t bother with the cloth for him, but immediately dipped her finger in the blood and started to draw a rune on his forehead. Michael noticed and tried to head-butt her, but she easily evaded the move and slapped him on the face.   
  
“That’s enough,” she told him, and went back to her tracing.   
  
She came back to Kat and Kat felt the sticky warm-warm feel of blood on her forehead as Mrs. Sandbury traced another rune on her forehead and then drew lines under her eyes and across her cheeks.“It should look dramatic, after all, you’re performing a sacrifice for your lord Satan,” she said chuckling, leaning back to admire her artwork.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury placed the chalice of blood in the center of the line connecting the empty circle with Kat’s triangle and went over to the black altar, bowing and muttering a few quick words. She reached underneath the altar and pulled out a heavy black book. Shutting off the lights on her way by, she stopped and stood three feet between the two symbols.   
  
She began the summoning. “ _Beralanensis, Baldachiensis, Paumachia, and Apologia Sedes, by the most mighty kings and powers, and the most powerful princes, genii, Liachidæ, ministers of the Tartarean seat, chief prince of the seat of Apologia, in the ninth legion, I invoke you-_ ”  
  
Kat panicked quietly as she realized Mrs. Sandbury was summoning a demon right in front of her, and unless it was stopped in the next few minutes, she was going to be possessed and made to kill. It didn’t look like she could expect help from her other companions, either.   
  
Michael had slumped over in the chair and appeared only semi-conscious.  
  
She looked over and was surprised to see Lucas conscious and staring at her intensely. She looked away, unnerved and she jumped in her chair as something cold touched her wrist. Glancing down, she saw a tiny knife hovering in the air. She suppressed a squeak, watching it tap her wrist again. Lifting up her palm, she watched as it slipped underneath. Lucas met her eyes and nodded  
  
Mrs. Sandbury had started walking around the room, and Kat sat bolt upright as she passed by her, beginning to chant in mono-syllables. The candles flickered eerily and Michael lifted his head up far enough that she could see him wink.   
  
She nodded back at him. Moving her wrist in an effort to push the knife back, she started sawing back and forth against the duct tape.   
  
A couple minute later she felt the tape give way. She wiggled her hand and it felt looser than before, and she was certain if she pulled hard enough, she could tear it completely. But not yet- she still had to get the other hand free. She cupped the knife in her hand, and slid it out, hoping that Lucas could see it. He did, and the knife zipped out in the air, like a tiny silver fish, to land beside Kat’s other arm.   
  
She started, and sawed quicker, noticing that Mrs. Sandbury’s voice had risen. Mrs. Sandbury began to spit out the words out as if they hurt her. “ _I will bind you into eternal fire, unless you come forthwith and appear here before this Circle to do my will in all things-_ ” The candle flames turned a deep red and black smoke started to swirl in the circle across from her.   
  
There was a hiss behind Kat, and she winced as her hair was yanked painfully back. A phantom hand grabbed her hand and she grappled with it for possession of the knife. There was a warning chatter from the imp as it pulled the knife out and held it out in front of her.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury glanced up and took the knife, but she didn’t stop. “ _Herefore come in and by these holy names Adonay, Zebeoth, Adonay, Amiorem; come ye, Adonay commandeth you!_ ” and the black smoke began to coalesce into a human form. She closed the book and tossed it aside. She whispered to Kat. “It’s too late.”   
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Kat noticed that Michael had his arms free and was frantically sawing at his leg bindings.   
  
Picking up the chalice from the floor, Mrs. Sandbury started pouring blood between the two lines that connected Kat and the demon.   
  
The tape ripped as Kat pulled her hand free, and she grabbed the back of Mrs. Sandbury’s pink sweater, pulling her backwards. The chalice falling to the ground, Mrs. Sandbury shrieked and her right hand reached out to scratch Kat’s face.   
  
Running across the room, Michael pulled her off of Kat. Struggling to hold her, he let go when she drew the small knife across his hand.   
  
Kat managed to free her other hand, and as Mrs. Sandbury came back towards her, she ducked down low and _pushed_. Mrs. Sandbury stumbled backwards, into the circle where the demon waited. The black cloud poured into her mouth, muffling her scream and she fell to her knees. There was a whine in the air and a bright light flashed by her and went through the high window on the other side, breaking the glass.  
  
Michael picked up the abandoned knife and tossed it to Kat as he went to help Lucas and Sari. Kat sliced through the tape on her legs and went to help him.  
  
He loosened the cords around their necks, while Kat used her knife to cut through the tape. She helped Sari to her feet while Michael helped Lucas.   
  
“You guys okay?” Michael asked anxiously. They both nodded and Lucas managed to croak out a soft ‘yeah’.   
  
“Good, ‘cause we’re not done yet,” he said. They all turned around to see Mrs. Sandbury standing in the circle and watching them in a predatory manner. Her eyes gleamed a demonic red.   
  
“Should be fun,” said Sari, in a small voice.   
  
“You ready to help?” Michael asked Kat.  
  
“What do you need me to do?”   
  
Lucas had disappeared and he returned a minute later, with their bag of supplies. Michael took out a large box of salt and handed it to her. “Start pouring around the circle.”  
  


***

  
  
The demon’s eyes flashed a bright red, and Kat thought she saw tiny flames in them. _And were those people in the flames…?_  
  
“Kat, move back!” Michael snapped.  
  
She blinked. Unknowingly, she had stepped almost within arms reach of the demon. Jumping away, she continued to pour the salt until she closed the circle.  
  
“You know that’s not going to hold me,” the demon said with Mrs. Sandbury's pleasant smile. An invisible wind whipped around the room and the salt-lines began to slowly drift across the floor. The light in the ceiling flickered.  
  
“We’re not planning on holding you,” answered Sari hoarsely, as she took out a black book, cracked with age, from her bag and handed it to Michael. She gave the demon a feral grin. “We’re planning on sending you back to hell.”   
  
Lucas had completed his turn with the holy water and he stood beside Michael. “Are we ready?” he asked, looking around at Kat and Sari. They nodded.  
  
“Let me know when you are done, children,” the demon answered, faking a wide yawn.  
  
Michael began. “ _Regno terrae cantate Deo, soli te Domino-_ ”   
  
“You look familiar,” the demon interrupted. It edged as close to the salt line as it could, staring at Michael with intensity.  
  
Michael paused. “I’ve probably exorcised some of your friends, so maybe you’ve heard of me,” he said lazily. He started again. “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-_ ”  
  
“No, wait, not you, but someone who looks like you…” said the demon. It snapped its fingers. “Yes! A victim sacrificed to me, not too long ago. Young boy, quite tasty,” it added.   
  
Michael stumbled over the words, clearly shaken. Lucas put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to it.”  
  
The demon continued loudly, “It was a delicious sacrifice, as the ritual gave me his blood _and_ his soul.”  
  
Michael looked up, hatred burning in his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, his voice rough.   
  
It winked at him. “He’s still there in my corner of hell, screaming in pain. Your brother, Asher. Sometimes he even screams your name, asking why you didn’t protect him…”  
  
Michael took a step forward and Lucas pulled him back. “Mike! It’s lying, it’s trying to provoke you. That’s what they do, they lie. You know that.” He shook Michael’s shoulder. “Keep reading.”  
  
“Why would I lie, when the truth hurts even more?” the demon asked. It switched its attention to Lucas. “But you don’t like the truth, do you Lucas?”  
  
Lucas narrowed his eyes, but he answered casually. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”   
  
“Oh, but you do,” it said. “You just don’t want to admit it. These _skills_ of yours. They’re not normal. You know they’re tainted... You’re a walking time-bomb, sooner or later those nightmares you’ve been having are going to come true.”  
  
Lucas grabbed the book from Michael and started reading, his Latin perfect but rushed.  
  
“Did the Winchesters tell you the truth about it? They left out some parts, didn’t they?”   
  
A knife flew through the air towards the circle and the demon nimbly moved out of the way. The blade thudded into the wall behind it and clattered to the floor.   
  
Watching from the sidelines, Kat had the feeling that the scales were turning against them. She cast her eyes around for anything that might help.   
  
Michael swore. “Dude, get it under control. You’re only going to kill the woman and as much as she deserves it--”   
  
Lucas was pale and a look of horror crossed his face. “That wasn’t… I didn’t mean to.”   
  
The demon smirked.   
  
“Guys, the salt-lines are mixing with the holy water and it’s evaporating…” Sari said, her voice tinged with panic. “We don’t have any water left…”  
  
Kat suddenly remembered the flask she had in her bag. She looked frantically around the room for the abandoned bag and spotted it behind the door. She started to creep backwards towards the door, taking care that the demon’s attention didn’t fall on her.   
  
It had turned to Sari. “Evaporating, oh dear. That’s not a good sign. That means I’m about to break free,” it said cheerfully. “And you’ve seen what happens when demons are free, haven’t you, Sari?”  
  
Sari didn’t answer.   
  
“Back at Stull, you saw us come out of the ground and rip people to shreds, didn’t you?”  
  
The artificial wind gusted higher.   
  
Sari lifted her chin. “We won in the end though…” but her voice shook slightly.   
  
“Not so brave now, are you, little girl,” the demon crooned in a high voice, licking its lips.   
  
Kat’s fingers closed on the flask and she started to pull it out. Pieces of paper crinkled against her skin and she remembered the exorcism she had hastily scribbled down in the library. A glance over her shoulder showed her that Michael and Lucas were quickly conferencing over the exorcism.   
  
A black tendril of smoke started to gather at the edges of the circle and curled out towards Sari, who noticed and jumped back, scattering more salt across the floor.   
  
Kat knew she couldn’t wait any longer. “ _Admissi curgio infernalis adversali et omnis letio omnis congregatio et secta-_ ” she started where they had left off, the words thick in her mouth at first but gradually became more comfortable and free-flowing.   
  
“Kat…” she could hear it say. She didn’t look up, just continued reading, trying to block out all the other sounds and concentrate on the Latin syllables.   
  
“ _A mercedes diavoli libera nos domine, ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facies. Libertate servire te rogamus audi nos-_ ” another voice joined in and read along with her. She wasn’t sure if it was Michael or Lucas.  
  
“Couldn’t save your friend,” the demon’s voice taunted. “When I break out of here, I’ll be sure to go after sweet, helpless Larisa. Maybe I won’t kill you-- I’ll use your body and together we’ll draw a blade across her throat, watch the blood spill down…”   
  
Kat felt her breath catch but she forced herself to keep on reading.   
  
There was a strangled cry from the demon- they were nearing the end of the exorcism and she risked a glance up. That was a mistake.  
  
The demon noticed. “Even if you get rid of me,” it said, slurring the words. “You won’t get your life back, you’ll be a murderer-- and no one will believe you. Again.” It bent down and picked up the knife that had fallen inside the circle.   
  
The words died on Kat’s lips as she watched the demon stab the blade straight into Mrs. Sandbury’s heart, twisting it viciously and then pulling it out, blood running down in a rapidly-growing crimson stain. It gave her a victorious smile.   
  
“ _Exert tua virtute et fortitudinem levi sue-_ ” Michael and Lucas hadn’t stopped.   
  
“ _Benedectis deus gloria patri_ ,” Kat joined in numbly, to the final words of the exorcism.   
  
“I’ll be back for you, children,” the demon spat as its head twitched in a violent motion. Throwing its head back, a large black cloud spewed out of its mouth before disappearing into the ceiling.   
  
Mrs. Sandbury’s body fell to the floor, blood pooling in a puddle beneath her.   
  
Kat stared blankly at the body. There was a light touch on her arm and she jumped.  
  
It was Sari. “You okay?” she asked.   
  
The adrenaline was slowly fading, and she could feel the cuts and bruises lighting up with pain all across her body. The back of her head suddenly ached. “Yeah, I think so.” She looked at the darkening bruises on Sari’s neck. “What about you?”  
  
Sari touched it gingerly. “It’s nothing that won’t heal,” she said.   
  
“Sari- can you get the first aid kit?” Lucas called from across the room. “Mike’s still bleeding and it’d be better-”  
  
“We don’t have time for that,” Michael interrupted. “I’ll be fine until we get back to the room, Lucas.” He pulled off his sweatshirt, leaving a thin t-shirt on underneath. He gave it to Lucas. “Just wrap it in this.”  
  
Kat walked over to where Mrs. Sandbury’s body lay. Her eyes were still open and blood dripped out of her mouth slowly. There was no doubt that she was dead, but Kat bent down to check her pulse anyway.   
  
“Wait-- Kat, don’t touch her,” Lucas said.   
  
“Why not?” she asked, with just a touch of hysteria. “She’s dead, stabbed in the heart by a demon, after trying to sacrifice us… it was right, you know. We’re going to get blamed for this, so why not touch her?”  
  
“We don’t know that,” Lucas said, but his voice was uncertain.  
  
“No?” Kat asked sarcastically, but she moved back. “Maybe this type of stuff happens to you guys regularly, but not to me. And this-” she gestured to the room, with burnt candles laying scattered on the floor, blood splatters on the floorboards, and the conjuring circles and Mrs. Sandbury’s body as the crowning masterpiece. “This is going to be a little hard to explain to the police, don’tcha think?”  
  
There was no response and the three of them avoided her gaze. Kat found the nearest chair and slumped down, shaking her head. “We’re screwed,” she said.   
  
Sari pulled out a lighter but Michael and Lucas shook their heads. “Too risky,” Michael said. “Looks too much like a cover-up.”  
  
“I thought that was the point,” Sari grumbled but she put the lighter away.  
  
“Could we clean this up and leave the body…” Lucas started.  
  
“And what, she died of natural causes?” Michael pointed out.  
  
“Maybe we could tell the truth…” Kat said slowly, remembering the conversation with Mrs. Sandbury before the invocation.   
  
“What?”  
  
They stared at her like she had grown an extra head.  
  
“She was planning on blaming me,” she said, a plan coming together in her head. “Maybe we can turn it around and put the blame where it really belongs. ‘Cause what did we do wrong, anyway? Er, besides all the illegal weapons that you have in that bag. You’ll probably have to get rid of that.”   
  
Sari clutched the bag to her chest. “No way--” she started.  
  
“Wait, wait,” Michael interrupted. “You mean, talking to the police?”  
  
“Of course,” Kat answered, puzzled at the question. “Who else?”  
  
Caged looks were exchanged. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Erm,” Michael said. “See, we kinda prefer to avoid the police as much as possible. You know, being under-age, going around killing evil things, it doesn’t exactly lead to a squeaky-clean background.”  
  
“Then you guys leave, and I’ll go to the police,” Kat said. The loss of blood combined with the head-ache was making her lightheaded and she wanted out of the room before she threw up.  
  
“We can’t just leave you,” Lucas said indignantly.  
  
“Sure you can,” Kat said.   
  
“No, we can’t,” he said, looking at Michael and Sari for back-up. Sari nodded, but Michael looked thoughtful.   
  
“You think you can lie convincingly enough?” he asked.   
  
“Sure, as long as no one saw you entering or leaving this house,” she said wearily and stood up.   
  
“We left the car a few blocks away in the mini-mart’s parking lot,” Michael said. He turned to Lucas and Sari. “And I think we can manage to leave without being seen, ‘long as you can give us fifteen minutes to get away.”  
  
“I can do that,” Kat said.  
  
“Sari, can you get all the stuff that we left upstairs?” Michael asked.  
  
Sari looked like she was going to protest, but she answered ‘yeah’, and left the room.   
  
“This is stupid,” Lucas said, jaw set.  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Kat told him. “It’ll work better with just me anyway,”   
  
“It’s the only way it’ll work,” Michael said. “Besides, we won’t skip out of town altogether.” He turned to Kat. “We’ll lay low for a few days, and when the coast is clear we’ll contact you, okay?”  
  
Kat nodded. “Sounds good-- because I still have some questions I’d like answered,” she said.  
  
Michael grinned. “Yeah, okay, we can come clean later on.” He and Lucas went around the room, cleaning up any traces that might give clues there had been more than two people there.  
  
Kat leant against the doorway, pressing fingers to her temples, to offset the massive headache that had exploded in her head. Her whole body ached.   
  
“You gonna be all right?” Lucas asked, coming to stand by her.  
  
“Yeah, I think so,” she said.  
  
He gave her a sideways glance. “You did good with the knife I slipped you.”  
  
Kat thought about the numerous things she could say to that, but decided to go with the easiest and least complicated. “Thanks for sending it.”   
  
Lucas looked like he might say more but Michael came up beside him. “We’re done,” he said, wiping the door handle with a small cloth. “Give us fifteen minutes and we’ll be gone.”   
  
“All right,” Kat followed them out into the hallway, where Sari was waiting silently. “Stay in the shadows and don’t let anyone see you, otherwise-”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Michael said. “The Winchesters taught us better than that.”   
  
He grinned and gave her a half salute, and they disappeared down the dark hallway. A quiet click of the back door let her know that they had exited.   
  
Kat made her way to the kitchen. _12:02_ , the clock read. Strange how it seemed so much later. She watched it ticked its way to fifteen past the hour and she picked up the phone hanging beside the refrigerator.   
  
“Illinois State police...”  
  


***


	6. Bridge

Lucas went right to the driver’s side when they got to the car and Michael was too tired to do anything but mutter at him, “You better not get us a fucking speeding ticket.” He helped Sari slug her bag into the trunk, and pulled out his jacket to cover the worst of the bloodstains. Just an innocent evening of teenage fun, that was all they had been up to, nothing strange about it at all.   
  
Sari was ghostly pale in the dim moonlight and there were dark bruises underneath her bloodshot eyes. She slammed the trunk down heavily and just stood there for a moment, looking small and fragile. “Sari-”Michael tentatively put his arm around her and she leaned in for a couple seconds before shrugging him off.   
  
“I’m fine,” she said, and climbed into the back seat. He could see Lucas twisting his head around to see what was taking him so long and he took one last brief look around to make sure that they had made it out undetected. A police siren wailed in the distance and he took that as a sign.   
  
“Drive slowly,” he told Lucas after he slammed the door on the passenger side. “I think the cops are coming.”   
  
“I always do,” Lucas said with a glance backwards as he quickly reversed out of the parking lot and onto the street.   
  
“Three speeding tickets in Ohio says you don’t.”   
  
“You drive just as fast as I do,” Lucas said, throwing Michael a challenging look.   
  
“Yeah, well, I don’t get caught,” Michael answered. “You always pick the worst places to speed…”  
  
If it wasn’t a usual argument, it was close enough that in the rearview mirror he could see Sari sit back and relax as he and Lucas bickered back and forth amicably until they reached their motel.   
  
The fwapping sound of the motel’s fan greeted them as they entered the dark room. Michael went over and grabbed their first aid kit, and then the TV remote, flicking to a basketball game. Lucas had grabbed Sari’s bag and had set it down on the ground beside her bed.   
  
“You need help with that?” he asked Michael, nodding to Michael’s attempts to clean the cut on his collarbone.   
  
“Naw, I think I got it,” Michael said. While it had bled a fair bit, it was a clean cut, and had clotted easily after the initial slice. The only thing he had to worry about was what had been on the blade before. Kat’s blood. But he doubted she had any blood-born diseases. Or, at least, he hoped so.  
  
Lucas nodded and lay back on the bed, focusing his attention on the TV. “Who’s playing?”   
  
“Columbus and Nashville, I think.”  
  
Sari was still standing at the door, locking and unlocking the lock before finally leaving it and going to sit down on the bed. She crossed her arms and stared over at the two of them until Michael finally noticed.   
  
“What?”   
  
She bit her lip, looking at the floor. “If you guys aren’t going to say it, then I will; tonight, that was close.”  
  
“Oh c’mon, it wasn’t that close-” Michael started, but the feeling that Sari had a point didn’t let him finish.  
  
“It was.” Sari said, looking back up, stubborn. “We were in over our heads and if it weren’t for Lucas’s freaky X-men power, and Kat finishing the exorcism, we would’ve been toast.”  
  
Lucas gave a brief shrug. “So, we’ll do better recon next time and make sure the old lady isn’t actually a Satanist in disguise. Oh, and I’d say next time we also try not to involve civilians,” he said, turning towards Michael.  
  
“She held her end up,” Michael said evenly. “And as Sari pointed out, she kept going with the exorcism at the right time.”  
  
“Yeah, but the point is, if we had made her to go when we did, she wouldn’t’ve gotten hurt.”  
  
“Maybe, but then maybe the whole night would’ve gone differently,” Michael pointed out. “We can’t know. And I’d like to have seen you telling her she had to leave.”  
  
“Maybe,” Lucas said reluctantly. “I still think it was shitty that we bailed on her at the end.”  
  
“It’s what worked best,” Michael said. “She knew what she was offering.” He snapped his fingers. “And she wasn’t exactly a civilian- she told me that she had met Sam and Dean before. She was at some kind of haunted jail or something with her boyfriend, so it’s not like this is her first time with supernatural creepy things anyway.”  
  
Sari let out a small snort. “There’s a difference between a few ghosts and having your landlady trying to sacrifice you to a demon for…” she trailed off. “We don’t even know why she was doing that ritual, do we?”  
  
“Power, wealth, maybe she wanted to bring someone back from the dead? Her husband had died recently,” Michael said wearily. “Who knows? We’ll figure it out in the morning.”  
  
But Sari wasn’t done yet. “But that demon, it knew things…” she started, with a troubled look on her face.   
  
“Later,” Michael said shortly.   
  
She turned to Lucas, who avoided her eyes guiltily. “What’s the score now?” he asked Michael, turning his attention to the game.   
  
Michael felt Sari’s eyes, watching as he and Lucas pretended to have an absorbing interest in the TV.   
  
“Fine,” she huffed finally. “Be all… boy-like and avoidy. I’m taking a shower. But you know we’ll have to deal with it eventually,” she added as a parting shot, before slamming the door to the bathroom.   
  
Michael watched the flickering screen for a few more minutes before abandoning the pretense, and concentrated on fixing his bandage.  
  
Lucas watched him wrestle with it for a few more seconds before swinging his legs down on the bed.   
  
“Here, I’ll do it,” he said quietly, his hands already on the bandage.   
  
Michael let his arms fall, and relaxed as Lucas started taping with quick, expert motions.   
  
Up close the darkening bruises were ugly and spreading on Lucas’s neck and for an instant Michael flashed back to the moment when he had been helpless to do anything other than watch as the cords had tightened.   
  
Lucas must have felt his gaze as he flicked his eyes up to catch Michael’s.   
  
Michael drew a tentative finger across the base of Lucas’s throat, and Lucas sighed slowly. He caught Michael’s hand and held it for a moment, pressing it against his cheek.  
  
“I thought-” Michael said, his voice cracking.  
  
“Yeah, well I’m not,” Lucas said, as he straightened up, slipping his hand out of Michael’s and giving him an embarrassed smile. “I’m fine- we’re fine,” he corrected himself. “Sari might be pissed but she’ll survive.”  
  
Michael looked over to the closed shower door. “She was right though.”   
  
“Mmm,” Lucas admitted. “But she’ll be holding it over us for weeks, if you admit it,” he warned.  
  
Michael grinned. “I know, which is why I waited.” The grin slipped from his face though, as he remembered the rest of the night.   
  
“Demons lie,” Lucas said, correctly interpreting his sudden silence.   
  
“Not always,” Michael answered, his chest feeling tight as he recalled the demon’s words. _“Sometimes he even screams your name, asking why you didn’t protect him…”_  
  
There was a stubborn set to Lucas’s jaw. “No, but they do most of the time.”  
  
Too late, Michael thought about the other demon’s taunts. “I mean-- it was obviously lying when it was talking to you-” he said hastily, realizing how hypocritical it sounded.   
  
But Lucas had a closed look on his face. “Maybe, maybe not.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid, Lucas, as if Sam and Dean would have let us loose if they thought you were going to go all Darth Vader,” Michael said impatiently.   
  
Lucas shrugged, his shoulders tight against his shirt as he crossed his arms.   
  
“Whatever, we’ll deal with it in the morning,” Michael said, the exhaustion suddenly hitting him from the whole night. He stood up and went to the other side of the bed, stripping off his jeans before falling back against the pillow. Lucas stayed, statue still on the other side of the bed.   
  
“Maybe we should go visit them again,” a voice said softly from the other side of the room. Sari stood in the bathroom room door, a small figure wrapped in one of the motel’s white towels.   
  
Michael wondered how long she had been standing there.   
  
“The Winchesters,” she clarified. “They might have answers.”   
  
She ducked her head, as the silence stretched in the room. “Nevermind then,” she muttered.  
  
“No, it’s a good idea. Maybe we should,” Lucas said quickly.  
  
“Let’s talk about it later?” Michael said, with exasperation. “Say, in the morning?” He shut off the bedside light, leaving the TV and bathroom light to flicker in the now-dark room.   
  


***

  
  
The loud ringing of a cellphone interrupted Michael’s dreams of Asher standing on the other side of a dark room, a ring of fire separating them.   
  
It wasn’t his ringtone. “Sari!” he mumbled into his pillow. “Get your phone!”  
  
When the ringing didn’t stop, he grudgingly opened his eyes and got out of the bed, hunting for the phone.   
  
He spotted it lying on top of a pile of clothes on the floor. He picked it up. “Hello?” he answered, stifling a yawn.  
  
“So. Job didn’t go as planned?” Bobby’s voice was no-nonsense, wanting immediate answers.   
  
Michael sat back on the bed. “Um, not exactly,” he said cautiously. “It was a little more complicated than we planned. How did you know?” As he answered, he noticed that Sari and Lucas weren’t in the room.   
  
He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 11:30 AM. Hoping that Lucas and Sari were getting breakfast rather than wasting away in a police cell somewhere, he turned back to the conversation.  
  
“I had an interesting call from a Kat Robertson from a hospital at 6 this morning,” Bobby said, his voice deepening to an almost-growl. “As well as looking at the town’s local newspaper this morning. Quite the sensational article they have there.”   
  
Michael rubbed his eyes, looking around the room to see if the newspaper was there. “Um, yeah- there was a piece of information we may have missed. How is she – Kat – by the way?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “The police believe her story all right?”  
  
“She’s staying overnight at the hospital again tonight, but she told me she she’ll be released tomorrow,” Bobby said gruffly. “And so far, the police believe her, but if there’s any evidence found that contradicts her story…”   
  
“What else could we have done?” Michael asked. “It would’ve have been more suspicious with us there- and she offered.”  
  
“She’s not a hunter, Michael, that’s the problem,” Bobby answered.  
  
“She sure seemed to be trying to be one,” Michael muttered, tired of the accusations that Kat was an innocent they had dragged into the hunt. “She didn’t listen to what you said, about waiting for today to do the ritual. And it’s not as if she was unaware of this whole thing, she had the equipment. She’s come across supernatural creatures before. Hell, she’s even met up with the Winchesters.”   
  
The line was silent for a moment. “She knows Sam and Dean?” Bobby asked.   
  
“Yeah, sort of, same kind of deal like me, and Lucas and Sari,” Michael said. “That didn’t come up in your conversation?”  
  
“Nope,” Bobby said. He sighed. “Look, just keep your heads down for the next few days, okay? It’ll help me sleep better at night. I’ll keep an eye on the situation, and handle any questions Kat has.”  
  
“All right,” Michael answered. “We were planning on doing that anyway.”  
  
The outside door opened and Lucas and Sari entered, bringing the tantalizing scent of fresh bagels into the room. Sari had a newspaper tucked under her arm. Unfolding it, she held it up so Michael could see the headline. HOMEMAKER REVEALED TO BE SATANIST it read.  
  
Michael raised his eyebrows in reaction at her as Bobby added a few more tips.   
  
“Call me if you have any problems,” Bobby said. “Oh, and next time- do your damn homework. It’ll save you from situations like this.” He hung up before Michael could say anything else.  
  
“Huh,” he said, throwing the phone down beside him.   
  
“Bobby?” Lucas asked, chewing on a bagel.   
  
“Yep.”  
  
“And?”   
  
“He’s been talking to Kat. He says to keep our heads down, but he doesn’t think we’ve been noticed by the police.”  
  
“So…self-imposed lock-down for a few days,” Lucas said. “That’s not too bad, considering the alternative.”   
  
“So you say,” Sari said, with a long suffering sigh as she flopped down on her bed. She picked up one of her books and opened it, starting to read.  
  
Michael read the article, letting out a small whistle, as he read the details about the supplies they had found in Mrs. Sandbury’s house.   
  
“This-” he started, looking up, but then he stopped as he noticed something. “Are you- is that a turtleneck, Lucas?”  
  
“Shut-up,” Lucas said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s the only shirt I own that covers the bruises.”  
  
Michael didn’t try to stifle the snicker. “I didn’t even know you had a turtleneck- the things you learn…” He smirked. “C’mon, you have to admit that’s pretty-”   
  
He didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Lucas tackled him.   
  
Sari let out another sigh. “Yep, gonna be a long few days.”  
  


***


	7. Part Five

Almost a week passed before the call she was expecting finally came.  
  
“Kat?”  
  
“Yes. Who is this?” Kat turned and gestured to let her mother know she was going to take it outside.  
  
“It’s Michael.”  
  
Kat lowered her voice as she stepped out onto the narrow balcony that wrapped around the second story of the motel. “Where are you?”  
  
“Just leaving our motel now. We’re heading out- but we thought we’d try and meet up if you still wanted. And as long as there’s no one watching you.” Even on the phone, she could hear the wariness in his voice.  
  
“I think we should be fine- besides, you’re not getting out of it that easy,” Kat told him. “I still have questions.”  
  
“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Michael said. He gave her directions.  
  
Her mother put down the book she was reading and fixed Kat a curious stare as she came back in the door. “Was that the police again?” she asked.  
  
“Just a friend,” Kat lied, as she grabbed her car keys and laptop. “I’m meeting him for lunch- I’ll be back later on.”  
  
“Don’t be too late!” Her mother called. “And keep your phone on so I can get a hold of you if I need to!”  
  
Kat waved a confirmation as she left.  
  
She drove to the IHOP near the edge of town, close to the highway, finding them in a booth tucked into the back corner. There was no visible sign that they were worse for wear after the encounter with the demon, although she noticed that both Lucas and Sari were both wearing shirts with high collars.  
  
She took the empty seat beside Sari, as Michael craned his neck to make a quick check of the restaurant.  
  
“Relax,” Kat told him. “The police aren’t after me.”  
  
“You sure?” He shot back, tapping his fork nervously on his plate of waffles. “They could have surveillance you don’t know about.”  
  
“Mike- chill, I think she’s fine,” Lucas said, giving him a small nudge with his elbow. “It’s early in the morning, I’m sure any cops are at Dunkin’ Donuts while Kat meets with the oh-so-dangerous high-schoolers.” He grinned. “After all, we hardly look like the desperate criminal types, right?”  
  
Looking at Lucas’s freckles and Sari’s pig-tailed hair, Kat had to agree. Even Michael was less juvenile-delinquent than an after school special version of the bad boy.  
  
Michael shoved him back. “Smart-ass.” But he spoke with a laugh and his expression softened. He explained, “It’s just, we’re so close to finishing this, it would really suck if we got caught now.”  
  
“That’s an understatement,” Sari said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she picked up her coffee and took a sip. “If the police could connect us with this, and found our equipment and research….” She shook her head. “Lucas and I would be sent to juvie and Michael’d probably be tried as an adult- there’s kind of a large number of unexplained deaths following us around the country,” she finished grimly.  
  
“So you see…” Michael trailed off.  
  
“Yeah, I get it,” Kat said. “You don’t want to risk getting caught.” She sighed. “But this week hasn’t exactly been fun for me, either.” She met Michael’s eyes. “I’ve held up my end of this deal, so now I’d like some answers.”  
  
Michael shrugged. “Fair enough. Ask away.” He grinned and spread his arms open, knocking over the syrup container in the process.  
  
“So…” Lucas said quickly as Michael tried to keep the sticky mess contained. “What’s happened since we left you? Bobby’s been keeping us in the loop but he said you couldn’t speak freely most of the time-”  
  
“My mom came down as soon as she heard what happened,” Kat said wryly. “I’ve been on a tight leash ever since I was released from the hospital.”  
  
Lucas nodded after an awkward pause. “Oh- right. Yeah, moms can be…” He cleared his throat. “So the police believed your story of what happened that night?”  
  
Kat nodded. “It helped that they found the exhumed body of Mrs. Sandbury’s husband in the basement-- with one hand missing.” She frowned, trying to remember the details. “They found the hand on her black altar, and I think there were other occult items hidden around the house, all with Mrs. Sandbury’s fingerprints on them.  
  
“There were lots of questions being thrown at me and if I acted a little hysterical and was kind of vague in parts-” She smiled. “They were surprisingly understanding about it. I think the cops were so surprised by Mrs. Sandbury the murdering-occultist, that they were happy to believe that someone normal- an otherwise regular college girl- was just the innocent victim in all this. Forensics confirmed the stab wound was self-inflicted.  
  
“And that’s my side of the story in a nutshell,” she said. She paused as the waitress approached, offering another coffee refill. “Any other questions?” she asked, after the waitress left.  
  
“No, I think that’s it for now,” Lucas said, looking to Sari and Michael for confirmation.  
  
“I have one,” Sari said. “We’ve been looking into it ourselves, but we haven’t found much- why do you think Mrs. Sandbury was doing all that black magic and summoning the demon in the first place?”  
  
“Honestly? I don’t know,” Kat said. “But I was able to dig up some more information about her background.” She pulled her laptop out, and set it on the table, starting it up. “I didn’t find anything suspicious going on while she was married to her husband… although considering what she was hiding in her house without anyone suspecting, it’s hard to say how long she’s been doing this.” She opened a document on her screen and turned it around so it was visible to everyone at the table.  
  
“I thought that if I had her maiden name, that might give me another place to start.” She pointed at the screen. “That’s her marriage certificate.”  
  
“Is that… her and her husband had the same last name?” Lucas said, clearly confused. “So, they were related?”  
  
“Cousins hopefully…” Michael said with an uncomfortable laugh.  
  
“That’s what I thought at first,” Kat said. “But I was able to escape my mom’s reach for a few hours and go visit the church where Anthony Sandbury was pastor. Luckily, his family has been going to that church for generations and its archives were well kept up.”  
  
She opened another document. “This is from the church bulletin from December 1975.”  
  
“We would like to warmly welcome to our congregation, Margaret Ann, the newest member of the Sandbury family.” Michael read.  
  
“See that picture?” Kat said. “She has to be at least fourteen or fifteen.”  
  
“Adopted?” Sari asked.  
  
“Yep,” Kat said. “And talking to a couple of people at the Wednesday service helped me dig up a bit more. Apparently Mrs. Sandbury – Margaret -- was taken away from her family by Children’s Services because of ‘funny business’ and she was taken in by the Sandburys. Eventually, she married their only son.”  
  
“So, child of occultists brought up in a devout Christian family, marries a pastor – knows of about black magic but isn’t free to follow her family’s ways… until her husband dies?” Lucas hypothesized.  
  
“Or until she was able to kill him,” Kat said. “Maybe. I don’t know. That was all I could find.”  
  
“Huh,” Michael said. “Guess we’ll never know.”  
  
“Not unless we dig her up and bring her back as a zombie,” Sari suggested. “Kidding,” she added, when she saw Kat’s expression.  
  
“Yeah, we don’t even have the right supplies for it,” Lucas joked. “Or the right spells.”  
  
“Zombies are real?” Kat asked.  
  
“Of course,” Sari answered.  
  
Kat took a deep breath. “Right,” she said. She flipped down the screen of her computer, clearing her throat. “My turn to ask the questions.”  
  
“Shoot,” Michael said.  
  
“Okay, I’m guessing this wasn’t a one-shot deal. You guys have experience with these situations- you’ve done this before.” There were nods of confirmation and Kat continued. “So let’s start off with the big one- why?”  
  
“Why are we hunting?” Michael asked. He blew out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… complicated.”  
  
“It started off when we were younger- we all had similar experiences with the supernatural world,” Sari said, taking over for Michael. “Experiences we probably wouldn’t have survived if Sam and Dean Winchester hadn’t been there to save the day. I lived in their old house in Lawrence, Kansas, and there was a poltergeist in it that wanted my family dead.”  
  
“There was some kind of Harry Potter dementor-type creature sucking out the life force of kids in my town,” Michael said. “It came after my younger brother. And me,” he added, after a pause.  
  
“Mine’s a bit more complicated-” Lucas explained. “But basically, there was a spirit who wanted revenge on my grandfather, and was killing members of my family to hurt him.”  
  
Kat opened her mouth, and then closed it again. “Um, wow,” she said, finally finding her voice. “Those are some interesting….experiences. But I don’t understand- I mean, after they were over, didn’t you guys try to go back to, you know, normal lives?”  
  
“You had a similar experience, didn’t you?” Sari asked, staring at Kat. “Did _you_ just forget it? Forget that those things are out there- even if most people think you’re crazy, you know the truth.” She shook her emphatically. “You can’t ignore it.”  
  
Kat thought back to her experiences after the asylum. “Point taken. So, you couldn’t forget it, didn’t want to, and then what? You started learning how to kill the monsters and went hunting?”  
  
“Well- not exactly,” Lucas said. “Sari’s right in saying that we didn’t forget what happened, but in our cases, it took-” he grimaced, “-another push from the supernatural world to get us hunting.” He dug into his jeans, pulling out a penny. He held it in his hand a few inches above the table, palm open. He moved his hand away, and the penny stayed there, hovering for a few seconds, before zooming through the air and stopping in front of Kat.  
  
Kat tentatively reached up to touch it, watching as it was slowly lowered to the table, settling with a tiny noise. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “How...”  
  
Lucas squirmed a little. “I- I can do that with metals. I don’t know why. It’s just something that’s… developed,” he said, ducking his head.  
  
“Do you two have the same, er- sort of thing?” Kat asked Michael and Sari. They shook their heads.  
  
“Naw, Lucas is the resident psychic freak-boy,” Michael said. “Me, it took my brother being sacrificed to a demon to get me hunting.” His bark of laughter was tinged with a hard edge. “Revenge, you know?”  
  
Kat swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. She thought back to the night with the demon. “When the demon was talking, was it-”  
  
“Yeah,” said Michael, and there was final tone to his voice, so she didn’t push him on it. He thumbed over. “Sari hasn’t told you about how she got pressed into this twisted job, so I’ll let her tell her story.”  
  
“I told you that the Winchesters came from my town, yeah?” Sari asked. “Well, a couple of years ago, there was a- a battle at a local cemetery, kind of an epic good vs. evil apocalyptic thing.” There was a half-smile on her face. “The Winchesters were there, along with other hunters.”  
  
“And you were there too?” Kat asked.  
  
“Wasn’t supposed to be,” Sari said. “But yeah, I was there.” She bit her lip. “We won in the end, but a lot of people died that night.”  
  
And the taunts made by the demon began to come together and make sense to Kat.  
  
“Anyway, what happened was kind of a catalyst for me,” Sari said, shrugging. “Along with a couple other…things,” she added but she didn’t elaborate.  
  
“Does that answer your question?” Michael asked.  
  
Kat nodded slowly. “Yeah.” She thought of another question that had been niggling in the back of her head since she had met them. “Can I ask though- your parents are okay with this, er- lifestyle? I mean, unless I’m underestimating your ages, shouldn’t you guys be in high school, not driving around the country hunting evil?” She stopped, waiting for their responses.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence at the table.  
  
“Look--” Michael said, a defensive tone creeping into his voice. “This isn’t a job most people can do. We’ve had to make sacrifices and-”  
  
Kat held her hands up. “Not judging- just asking. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this, okay?” She thought about the other main question she wanted to ask. “How?”  
  
“Come again?” Michael asked, still wary.  
  
“Tell me how you hunt, what methods you use…I want to know how it works.”  
  
Michael considered the question for a moment and then grinned. “You want all the gory details?”  
  
Kat leaned forward. “Definitely.”  
  


***

  
  
Looking back on it-- as she watched them drive off into the distance, the decision had already been made– she just hadn’t realized it yet.  
  
“Is that something for school?” her mother asked a few days later.  
  
“Hmm?” Kat asked, still tired from the night before, from nightmares of Mrs. Sandbury slitting her own throat while rivers of blood gushed out.  
  
Her mom pointed to the newspaper Kat was reading on the table. “Circling stories- is that for one of your journalism courses?”  
  
Kat looked down at the paper, and the dark lines of pencil she had been repeatedly circling around a story about a man found with both his hands severed from his body.  
  
It was one of the ways they found their hunts, Lucas had explained- looking for unexplained or mysterious deaths in the news. Kat had taken to checking the paper every day and circling the stories she thought might be worth looking into. One day.  
  
“Yeah,” she said, smiling at her mother. “Just something for school.”  
  
It took another few days, before she could finally reassure her mother that she was all right on her own, that she could manage the last few weeks of college by herself.  
  
She had a plan.  
  
She decided she’d call Bobby’s number- to get advice on how best to follow through with it.  
  
“It’s over,” he told her bluntly. “Go back to your life girlie, forget what’s out there in the dark. You did good but it’s over for you now.”  
  
“What if I can’t do that?” She hung up.  
  
She phoned him later that night.  
  
“What am I? A twenty-four hour help line?” he grumbled.  
  
“Was it over for you?” she asked him. “When you finished killing whatever it was that came and tore your life apart?”  
  
Bobby sighed. “It was different for me.”  
  
“Why?” she challenged. “Is it because I’m a girl?”  
  
He chuckled. “Don’t even try to pull that card, sweetheart. I’ve known women who do this too. Was even married to one for a few years.”  
  
“What happened to her?”  
  
He was silent for a moment. “It’s not an easy life…”  
  
“I’ve figured that,” she told him impatiently. “Look, I’m not about to rush out and stake everything that moves.” She paused, a little uncertain. “Do you use stakes for killing vampires? Are there such things as vampires?” She sighed. “I just want to know about it. All I need is a number, a contact where I can get some information, maybe some training.”  
  
“We don’t exactly have an apprenticeship-” Bobby was still amused for some reason.  
  
“Where did Michael and Lucas and Sari learn it?” Kat asked. “They learned from Sam and Dean Winchester, didn’t they?”  
  
“Michael and Lucas did, Sari- I don’t know, someone in her hometown, I think,” Bobby said. He sighed. “You sure you want this?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Bobby was silent again. Finally he said. “I’ll call them.”  
  
“Thank you-”  
  
“Don’t thank me yet, they might say no,” Bobby warned her.  
  
“I’ll do it on my own, then.”  
  
“Oh, you’ve definitely got the hunter’s mentality,” he grumbled.  
  
Kat held her breath. “Can you- can you ask them if they remember a Roosevelt Asylum in Rockford, Illinois? And if they remember the girl?”  
  
An hour later, the phone rang. Kat answered it, the knots in her stomach growing tighter.  
  
“Kat Robertson?” the voice had a ring of familiarity.  
  
“Yes, this is she. I mean, yes.”  
  
“This is Dean Winchester. Bobby said you wanted to talk to us about training?” His voice was carefully neutral, and Kat couldn’t read into it.  
  
“Uh yes, if you- I mean, I could do it on my own, but I’ve met Michael and Lucas and they told me that-”  
  
Dean cut her off. “You’re really the girl from that asylum?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was a wry chuckle. “I thought I told you not to go into any more haunted houses.”  
  
“Sorry,” Kat said, meaning it. “I tried.”  
  
Another small chuckle. “Yeah, I’m sure you did.”  
  
He paused for moment before continuing. “Bobby said that he thought you’d go off and get yourself killed if you didn’t have any training.”  
  
Kat swallowed. “I'm going to do this whether or not anyone helps me.”  
  
Another pause.  
  
"One sec..." Dean said and it sounded as if he were covering the phone with his hand. Kat could hear muffled conversation on the other end of the line.  
  
Dean came back on. "Look- Sam and I aren't really in the business for training hunters. It's not a lifestyle we recommend to people, you understand? You don't have to ruin your life following demons and spirits in the in the dark, we do that, or other people like us."  
  
“I've been trying to avoid your… world, or whatever, ever since Roosevelt asylum," Kat told him. "It doesn't work, does it, once you know what's out there? Most people don't know about it, but I do. Can't change it now. And I'm willing to do the work so other people don't ever to face that fact.”  
  
She took a deep breath, wondering if she should continue. “And no offense- but what happens when you can't do this job anymore? You need people carrying on the er, tradition, right?”  
  
Dean barked a short laugh. “All right, look, here's the deal, Kat. You come to us for a few weeks, months, whatever, and Sam 'nd I'll train you and try to our best to discourage you from this idea. At the end of the training... if you still want to do it, we'll, I don't know, issue you a certificate as a- certified demon hunter or something.”  
  
Kat could hear a laugh echoing in the background and Dean muttering- "This was your idea first, _Professor_."  
  
Kat felt a surge of relief. Finally, somewhere to go, some sense of purpose. "Thank you," she said simply. She thought of something else. “I can pay…do I pay you-?” she asked awkwardly.  
  
“Nah, don't worry about it right now. We'll work something out,” Dean told her and then gave her the directions to their place in Virginia.  
  
“I’ll be there in a few weeks,” Kat replied.  
  
“See you then,” Dean said and he hung up.  
  


***

  
  
There were things she had to do of course, before she could leave. Two weeks after the call she had finished her finals and had made the call to the parents that she would be ‘road-tripping’ for a while. Good-byes had been simple; what friends she still talked to were pre-occupied with their own imminent graduation to do anything other than have awkward chats over coffee or quick hugs and a promise to ‘keep in touch’.  
  
Kat tried to return the shotgun to George.  
  
“You can keep it,” George said, eying her with a look she didn’t quite know how to interpret.  
  
“George, I didn’t kill anyone with it.” As far as she knew, he hadn’t told anyone that she had borrowed the gun that night.  
  
“I know,” George said, shrugging. “But I don’t need it.” He took the gun from her, and absently shined the barrel with his sleeve. “You do though.” He handed it back.  
  
Kat wondered what the huge feeling of relief meant as she took it and leaned it against the wall beside her. “Thank you.” She reached over and gave him a hug.  
  
She left early in the morning the next day, her Toyota lightly packed up.  
  
At mile fifty, she thought about turning back. She still had the job offer from the Strackburg Gazette.  
  
At mile ninety two she pulled off the road and spent a good forty minutes asking herself whether this was what she wanted.  
  
At mile one hundred and seventy three, the Toyota’s engine began to make a funny sound. She didn’t stop to check it.  
  
She was about two hundred miles away when the Toyota coughed its last breath and coasted to a stop.  
  


***

  
  
“Six hundred?”  
  
“Four twenty,” the man told her. “That’s counting in the cost of towing it. It's more than a fair price-”  
  
“I’ll take it,” Kat took the wad of bills he held out and started counting as she walked from the junkyard. More than enough to buy her a bus ticket to her destination. She had taken her maps out and knew there was a bus station back a few miles in the last town.  
  
She hitched her bag on the back and started walking.  
  
The green Ford Taurus pulled up beside her as she was approaching the outskirts of the town. The window rolled down. “Hey!” Kat ignored the occupant, probably some sleazy old man looking for a quick hook-up.  
  
“Hey!” the voice repeated itself. It sounded familiar. She looked up and gaped, speechless, as a grinning Lucas leaned out of the passenger window.  
  
“Uh, hi,” she said, wondering if she was dreaming. _There was no way…_  
  
“Your car break down?” Michael asked as Sari swung open the door to the backseat.  
  
“No, I’m walking across the country just for the hell of it,” Kat said tiredly.  
  
“Where’re you heading?” Sari asked.  
  
Kat paused. “Danville, Virginia,” she said.  
  
Lucas mouthed a silent ‘told you’ to Sari and she scowled as she dug out a dollar bill and handed it to him. But Michael didn’t look that surprised.  
  
“What a coincidence,” he said lightly. “We’re passing by there on our own trip.”  
  
He grinned. “Want a lift?”  
  
“’Love one,” Kat answered.  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more about the exploits of next-gen Supernatural hunters, please note I've also written a fic from Sari's POV that continues on the story and expands more on the hunting trips and slightly co-dependent relationships of Sari, Michael and Lucas, in What Normal Isn't.
> 
> Will more fic from this universe appear? Well, it's been a number of years... but you never know! As this universe was kindly opened up by Lyra_wing in the first place and others have written in it, if there is any desire to play in this sandbox still... feel free! I would love to read it. 
> 
> Original Thanks from 2007 LJ Post:
> 
> To lyra_wing for allowing this 'verse to be open for others to play in. To krisomniac for the awesome and thorough beta- this story would be filled with so many more adverbs and passive tenses if it weren't for her. To sanyin and acidquill for adding Sari to the mix with Lucas and Michael. To jellicle for beta-ing an early version of the story, and to researchgrrrl for letting me know that hairspray can indeed be used as a dangerous weapon.
> 
> This story has been a long time in the making. I started it last July- so hey, nine months later... It's done! *collapses* Part of the story was posted then, but I've since expanded it, (a lot, heh.)
> 
> Most people on my flist probably know this, but minor characters and futurefics are particular favourites of mine in fanfiction. Rescued kids, particularly, in the SPN 'verse. You have to know that some of them aren't going to go back to a normal life, some of them are going to become hunters. Um, and yeah, that was pretty much the reason I started writing this story-- that and the chance to do in it an already defined fanfic 'verse strongly motivated me as well.
> 
> Um. I thought I'd have a lot more to say, but I think my brain is too fried from editing this and studying for exams.
> 
> Latin translations came from Super Wiki and the demonic summoning spell came from the Esoteric Archives (in case anyone needs either of these works for their own purposes). ;)
> 
> As with the other stories in this 'verse, if anyone wants to use Kat, or continue on with this story, feel free! Share and share alike. :)
> 
> If anyone has any questions, or there's anything that I didn't clear up, I'll try my best to answer it.


End file.
